


Inamorata

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, Community: schmoop_bingo, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-02
Updated: 2010-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-05 21:44:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 51,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year in the life of Dana Scully and Monica Reyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Year's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Date in Calendar: 2-26 December 2010  
> Dates Written: 1-30 November 2010, 2 December 2010, & 25-26 December 2010  
> Word Count: 52075  
> Written for: [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/)  
>  Prompt: see each chapter for prompt info  
> Summary: A year in the life of Dana Scully and Monica Reyes.  
> Advertisement: Part of the [FSAC:DW10](http://fsac.shatterstorm.net/)
> 
> Disclaimers:  
> 
> 
>   * "The X-Files," the characters and situations depicted are the property of Chris Carter, Twentieth Century Fox Television, Ten Thirteen Productions, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. This site is in no way affiliated with "The X-Files," Ten Thirteen Productions, Twentieth Century Fox Television, or any representative of the actors.  
> 
>   * "Criminal Minds", the characters, and situations depicted are the property of CBS Productions, Touchstone Television, The Mark Gordon Company, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Criminal Minds", CBS, or any representative of the actors.  
> 
>   * All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  
> 
>   * "ER", the characters and situations depicted are the property of Warner Bros. Television, Amblin Entertainment, Constant C Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. This site is in no way affiliated with "ER", NBC, or any representatives of the actors.  
> 
>   * "CSI: Miami," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, Touchstone Television, The American Travelers, and CBS Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "CSI: Miami," CBS, or any representatives of the actors.  
> 
>   * "NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Belisarius Productions, Paramount Network Television Productions, Paramount Television, and CBS Television. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with " NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," CBS, or any representatives of the actors.  
> 
>   * All original characters belong to ShatterStorm Productions and are the creations of A. Magiluna Stormwriter and Shatterpath. They also belong in the Light, Water, Muses universe, tho’ this is a standalone within the whole of that universe.
> 

> 
>   
> Additional series disclaimers will be added in as they appear in each chapter.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was my NaNoWriMo novel for 2010. I chose to do a blackout for my [schmoop_bingo](http://www.livejournal.com/users/schmoop_bingo/) card, and decided that I'd write about Dana and Monica. Basically I took an entire year of their lives and showcased little vignettes and snapshots in time for them. The wine being discussed in chapter 5 is the [2005 Ravenswood Sonoma County Syrah](http://shop.ravenswoodwinery.com/2005_Ravenswood_Syrah). The sunburn remedy information in chapter 8 is from [Safe Natural Cures](http://lacetoleather.com/natcurforsun.html).
> 
> Beta: Many, many thanks to Debbie for doing the beta job on chapters 1-24 on this beast. I really appreciate it, hon! And many thanks to Shatterpath for the VERY last minute beta of chapter 25. Love you, Doggie!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "New Year celebration".

++ Monica ++

(01-01-06

"Five… Four… Three… Two… One… Happy New Year!"

The strains of "Auld Lang Syne" waft tinnily through the speakers as we all stand outside by the gazebo. A quick glance around me brings a smile to my face as I see all of the couples -- triples, multiples -- leaning in for that first kiss of the New Year. A thrill of emotion tingles down my spine at the emotions surrounding me.

Karen and Darya still nuzzle and cling together as if newlyweds, despite the fact that they've been together for just over eight years now. Then again, having just been given the green light to resume certain aspects of their life, now that little Wynnie is two months old, has brought out a far more playful side to their interactions, even in public. Of course, their co-family are just as bad: Janet still rules the household, but Sam and Art worship her almost giddily. Zo and Kerry have mellowed into a lovely couple, having always shared a kind of zen bent to their relationship; just like that Alex and Rachel have finally, fully achieved. The younger couples, as I teasingly refer to some of them, each bring their own levels of intimacy to their kisses: Joan and Sandy, Cindy and Boxer, even Alex and Olivia. Dace and her pack are conspicuously absent, having chosen to take the parenting duties for all of the children, letting the grownups have some much deserved alone time on this one night of the year. Anastasia and Tessa are in the corner, happily trading kisses to celebrate a relationship that I hope to emulate when Dana and I have been together for as long as they have.

Perhaps most telling to me are the sweet little kittenish kisses shared by Alexis and Tory. They've come so far in the few years since they've gotten together. Soon enough, we'll be celebrating the anniversary of the day Tory was brought to the Ranch and into our lives. Alexis has become almost normal over the last two and a half years, thanks to the strange and special bond she shares with Tory. It's the closest thing I've ever seen to a proper Sentinel-Guide relationship, and yet Tory doesn't display any outward signs of Guide tendencies. It's been a delicious puzzle to try to figure out over the years and I--

"Stop it, Mon." Dana's gentle voice, accompanied by her fingers curving around the point of my chin, brings me back to the woman in my arms. "Let them have their moment alone."

"I wasn't--"

I am unable to finish whatever it was I was going to say as she leans up on her toes, her lips pressing lightly to mine for the briefest of moments. Pulling back with a teasing flick of her tongue across my lower lip, she grins up at me saucily.

"How about you not worry about playing Mama Bear to the whole clan out here for one night, hmm?"

Grinning sheepishly, I lean in to brush the tip of my nose against hers. "Have I mentioned lately that I love you?"

Instead of letting her answer me, I shift slightly to capture her lips with mine. Pulling her closer, my hands ease around her waist to ground me in the present, unwilling to ever let her go again. Her lips are soft, slightly sticky from the wine she was drinking before Rachel passed out the champagne. Of its own volition, my tongue flicks out to trace her lips, gliding against her skin slowly to gather up the sticky sweetness clinging there. The heady scent of her beloved merlot combines with the sandalwood oil blend that she's taken to wearing, surrounding me in one of the most comforting and enticing smells in my entire life. I could easily become addicted to this particular blend.

Dana's soft groan ghosts across my mouth, sending a shiver down my spine and encouraging me to deepen the kiss. My tongue meets very little resistance as it slips between her lips. I spend countless seconds -- minutes? hours? days? -- just exploring her mouth, stroking and tasting every possible spot that my tongue can reach, until I'm quite sure I've memorized it thoroughly. Only then do I let my tongue glide against hers, bold enticement to tangle sensuously with mine.

Her hands move up along my arms until her fingers are threading in my hair, gripping tightly to bring me even closer. Shifting to rebalance myself in this new position, a low moan escapes my own lips and I want nothing more than to brand her as mine, great bold letters to proclaim it to all who ever look at her. She is the greatest thing to come into my life, and I never want to let go of her. Not even in death.

"Mon," she murmurs raggedly, pulling back from the kiss finally; the husky tone sending another shiver of delicious desire slithering down my spine to pool between my legs. "Not here, babe."

And then, like a switch being flipped, the real world intrudes upon the neat little fantasy world that consists of only me, Dana, and massive amounts of kissing. Feeling the heat of the blush coloring my face, I close my eyes and rest my forehead against Dana's, an odd combination of embarrassment and arousal at war within me. Slowly, my heart slows its rapid beating as she continues to murmur nonsense. Sure, she's probably just doing it out of some sort of embarrassment on her own part, but the steady sound of her voice grounds me back into the here and now once again.

"Damn, Monica!" Zo calls out, chuckling. "Can we have an encore? That was kinda hot!"

That flush of embarrassment heats my skin again, and a quick glance proves that Dana's just as red-faced as I am right now. Kerry's amused admonishment helps a little, as does Zo's yelp of surprise when Kerry's crutch lands against some part of her body. Within another brief brush of our lips, I straighten and turn to face these women who have become more of a family than I'd ever hoped to have.

"There will be no encore, you pervs!" I snap back, mock-glaring at Zo, who pouts and sticks her tongue out at me. "So don't ask!" That sends a ripple of laughter through the assembled group, lightening the mood once again for my beloved Dana. Turning to grab the champagne flutes I'd set on the gazebo railing before the countdown started, I hand one to Dana and raise the other in my own hand. "So, just a small toast" -- this is met with good-natured groans -- "before we head back inside where it's warmer."

"Can't we do this inside?" Rachel complains. "It's warmer in there."

"Well, shut up and let me talk, then we can go inside." I can't help the laughter that bubbles up when she gives me a one-fingered salute. Dana's gasp of surprise from next to me only makes me laugh harder. "First off, Rachel, you need to spend less time with Dace. She's rubbed off way too much on you."

"As if!" she retorts with a broad grin.

Rolling my eyes, I lift my glass in her direction in salute. "Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for joining us in our New Year's celebration tonight. Yes, we could have done all of this inside, but I thought it would be nice to welcome in the new year outside. So goodbye to 2005 and hello to 2006. May this be a banner fucking year for the Ranch and all of us living here."

Every glass is raised to the toast amid easy laughter, and we spend a couple of minutes moving around to clink glasses with everyone present. Finally, it's time to sip at our champagne, which is absolutely fantastic. I know Anastasia and Tessa have already planned to send a thank you to Sylvia for this particular suggestion, but I think I need to send one of my own. And maybe see about getting a bottle or two myself, just for me and Dana.

Once the glasses are drained, everyone begins to head into the great room to continue whatever festivities we're going to have in the blessed heat. Even I can admit that it's damned cold out this late at night in the middle of winter. Thankfully, everybody's been really good about making sure to bus their own trash back inside, but Dana still does a quick check of the area once everyone's back inside. As she passes by, my hand snakes out to pull her close again.

"Hey," I murmur softly, forehead resting against hers again.

"Hey, yourself," she replies, smiling up at me. "Happy New Year, Mon."

"Happy New Year to you, too, Dana. So, what do you say we make a quick appearance, then ditch the rest of the festivities?"

Her delighted laughter surrounds me like an old familiar blanket. "I'm surprised you're even suggesting we do that, Mon. I figured you'd want to just sneak off to our place."

"Nope. Zo and Rachel would notice and probably come pound on our door and howl badly. Or get Dace to come do it for them."

"You're probably right." Dana leans up to press a quick kiss to my lips. "Let's go make the rounds of goodnights to the gang and head home. I think I want to take advantage of you tonight. I mean, I want to take advantage of a night without William, so we can sleep in late tomorrow morning."

Chuckling darkly, I swat at her ass lightly. "You are so on, Dana, my love."


	2. Fourth Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Anniversary - miles apart".
> 
> * * *

++ Dana ++

(01-04-06)

_ Excerpt from the personal journal of Dana Scully _

> _I'd really like to just cry right now. No, I think I'd rather beat that Fox Mulder over the head with a large rock. Someone over at the BAU contacted him after reading his paper on the Sentinel Project. Why that man is still trying to take credit for this project is beyond me. He was called in on one case four years ago, and he wasn't even an integral player at the time. That Dace didn't really like him certainly made it easier for me and Monica to work together, that's for sure. And now he's called in a favor from Monica. How in the hell did she end up owing him a favor? Because he picked her for that case? Which he didn't really do._

> _It's the principle of the matter that I hate him right now. Because of him, Monica is off at Quantico, working with the BAU because they have a suspect that Mulder thinks could be a Sentinel. Mulder's not even working with the BAU, so I have no idea how he came across that information in the first place. And we couldn't both go because of William and Alexis. And the luck of the draw -- or is that bad luck? -- had her flying out of here at some ungodly hour last night. I got Kat to sit with William while I took Monica to the airport. She'd turned down Anastasia's offer of the private jet, saying that it could be a longer trip than she expected and she didn't want to keep the jet tied up unnecessarily._

> _It was a long drive home from the airport. I fought back the tears the entire way. Monica would kill me if I got into an accident because I was crying over this. It shouldn't be a big deal, but it is. Today is our anniversary, damn it! And that bastard had to take her away from me on this one day that means more to me than any other. Monica had even tried to work out some sort of teleconference, so she could be here with me today, but Mulder was adamant that she had to be there in person. He'd best hope he's never anywhere near me again. I can't be sure that I could be stopped from trying to rip him to pieces for this._

> _Why the hell couldn't she have said no? And if the BAU wants her assistance so badly, they can ask for her. Jason Gideon doesn't need Fox Mulder's help in getting anything he damned well pleases. Maybe that's the problem I'm having with all of this. If the request had actually come from the BAU, from Jason Gideon personally, or someone on his team, I don't know that I'd have had nearly as much of an issue with this whole situation._

> _I just… I want Monica to be home, damn it! Four years ago today, Fox Mulder introduced me to Monica, so we could work on the Snake Eyes case. We haven't been apart since then. Once the case was over, she started looking into continuing to study the Sentinels, Dace and Emily in particular. Oddly enough, I didn't even hesitate in agreeing when she asked me to work on the project with her. That's completely out of character for me, and yet it felt like the most normal, comfortable thing in the world for me at the time._

> _And I don't regret a single minute of it either. Yes, we've had some rocky times over the last four years, but none of that matters. In the beginning, we weren't sure what we were, but I knew I couldn't be apart from her. We tried the friends with benefits, but it became pretty clear that both of us wanted more._

> _Damn it! Monica should be here and I should be telling her this, not writing it in this damned journal. This is complete and utter bullshit! Fox Mulder is officially persona non grata from this point forward._

A knock at the door startles me out of the wound up reverie I've fallen into while writing in my journal. Glancing up, I can see Alexis standing there, a broad smile on her face. Curiosity tears me away from my murderous thoughts toward one Fox Mulder, and I motion for her to come in. She and Tory practically bounce into the office. It would appear this is another good day for Alexis. Fantastic!

"Delivery truck coming," Alexis says, chortling like a child on Christmas morning.

She does love when the packages come to the Ranch. She treats each package like a puzzle, a chance to test her Sentinel abilities. It's a game she's taught the children, and one that Dace encourages in all of them. Dace tends to send a variety of packages to the Ranch with the sole purpose of continuing the game and skills it teaches. I'm guessing that's what this will be.

Just as I'm about to ask if she's positive, the phone linked to the front gate rings. Alexis' smile broadens and she emits a tiny squeal. Fighting the urge to chuckle at her, I move to answer the phone. The man's voice on the other end of the line confirms a delivery for me. Alexis is not pleased that she can't go with me to get the package, but she knows better than to get anywhere near a strange man. Besides, she loves it when I let her and Tory keep an eye on William for me.

The walk out to the gate is good for me. The late morning sun is warm, but nowhere near as brutally hot as it would be if this were August instead of January. A flash of light to my left makes me smile when I see the remnants of the ornaments from last Yule on the Gifting Tree, as Alex calls it.

The delivery man hands over two packages designated for me after I sign for them. The long, narrow white box gives away the general idea of what is inside, and my heart begins to melt because it must be from Monica. The other box is smaller, square in shape, and heavier than the first. Curiosity burns hot in me as I walk back home.

Alexis greets me at the door, bouncing on her toes in anticipation. As I near her, she leans closer, nostrils flaring as she sniffs at the air. "I smell roses!" she says, delighted satisfaction in her voice. "Are they from Monica?"

I can't help but mirror her broad smile. "I certainly hope so. I'm not sure who else would be sending me roses on my anniversary."

"I would," comes her suddenly soft reply. "But I would pick them from the garden for both of you. I'll do that when Monica comes back home."

Stepping back into the front room that serves as living room and office, I set both boxes on the desk. Alexis and Tory stand to either side, watching me undo the ribbon from around the longer box. Lifting the lid, I suck in a breath to see a dozen long stemmed, blood red roses, interspersed with virginally white baby's breath, and tied together with a silk ribbon the same shade as the roses. Leaning in to smell their heady scent, I pluck up the card nestled atop the greenery.

> _My dearest Dana,_
> 
> _Happy anniversary,_ mi corazon _. May we still feel as much for each other in twenty years as I feel for you today and every single day of the last four years._
> 
> _You own my heart, Dana._
> 
> _Yours always,  
>  Monica_

  
  
"Aww, that's so sweet," Tory says, blushing as she realizes she's just admitted to eavesdropping over my shoulder, so to speak. "Can I get you a vase for them?"  
  
"Under the sink," I reply, pressing the card to my heart for a brief moment, feeling the keen loss of my lover again. Fox Mulder really must die for this injustice.  
  
When Tory comes back with a particularly lovely crystal vase that Anastasia and Tessa gave us last year for our anniversary, I smile and take a few moments to arrange the roses and baby's breath within to look just right. Finally satisfied, I let her add water to the vase before directing her to set it on the kitchen counter, where they'll sit until Monica comes home. Once she's seen them and been properly thanked for them, I'll give them to Alex and Rachel to preserve for me.  
  
Which leads me to the smaller, but heavier box. It's white like the other box, but definitely a heavier cardboard construction, and approximately a foot square. Curiosity can no longer be denied, and I use scissors to slit the tape open. Lifting the flaps slowly, I find a smallish vase filled with a beautiful bouquet of perfectly blooming pink and blue hydrangea, white roses, and pristine calla lilies. I actually take the time to set this particular vase on the counter with the roses from Monica, before opening the card that's accompanied it.  
  


> _Agent Scully,_
> 
> _Agent Reyes made a firm request that I send flowers as an apology for taking her away from you on your anniversary. I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't absolutely necessary._
> 
> _Please accept my sincerest apology._
> 
> _Fox Mulder_

  
  
Pursing my lips in disdain, I fight the urge to get rid of the flowers and the card. Instead, I set the card with the flowers and take the offering for what it is. Fox Mulder is still firmly placed in the top slot on my shit list, but he's lucky he took Monica's advice in this instance.  
  
"Who're they from, Dana?" Tory's voice startles me for the briefest of moments. The renewed anger at Fox Mulder eclipsed my memory of my houseguests temporarily.  
  
"Agent Mulder sent them at Monica's request, apparently."  
  
"So maybe you don't want to dismember him quite so badly?" Alexis' soft question makes me study her face for a moment. "It's what I'd want to do if someone wanted to take Tory away on our anniversary and wouldn't take no for an answer. Well, maybe I'd want to do more than that, but you know what I mean." Her sheepish grin brings a chuckle to my lips.  
  
"Thank you both," I finally say. "This has been a rough day, to say the least." Before I can say anything else, a yawn overwhelms me and my jaw cracks from its intensity.  
  
"Have you slept at all since she left?" When I shake my head, Alexis rolls her eyes and grabs my arm, heading toward my bedroom. "You need to sleep, you know. You'll be to both William and Monica if you don't. Tory and I can listen for William while you do." She pauses outside my bedroom door and meets my gaze frankly. "I promise that I'll call someone else over if I start going… feral."  
  
No matter how far she's come since making the Ranch her home and finding Tory, Alexis Barnes is still a dangerous and unpredictable animal trapped in a woman's body and mind. That she has more normal and lucid days, and can more easily recognize when the madness descends again, is a fantastic improvement. She knows her limits and has been very good at communicating them with us.  
  
I nod slowly and let a broad smile curve my lips up, only to have it marred by another yawn. "Just for a couple of hours. I want to be up if Monica calls later."  
  
+++++  
  
A couple of hours turned into six hours of deep, dreamless, uninterrupted sleep. Stumbling blearily out into the living room, I am greeted by the aroma of roasting meat and vegetables mingled with the flowers' heavenly scents. There are paper chain garlands strung up on the windows and the breakfast nook into the kitchen, and a water glass filled with wildflowers has joined the two bouquets from before. A DVD of _Looney Tunes_ shorts is playing, taking up the attentions of the six people in front of the TV. Alexis, Tory, Michel, and William are happily coloring in the large coloring books from Christmas, while Alex and Rachel cuddle on the couch and keep an eye on them.  
  
As if cognizant of my thoughts, Rachel turns to smile broadly at me. "Look who's finally decided to join the land of the living," she teases. "How you feeling?"  
  
"Hungry," I reply, my stomach rumbling to punctuate the point. "What is all of this?"  
  
"Mama! We dec'rated!" William crows delightedly as he runs into my embrace.  
  
Scooping him up, I breathe in the clean, wholesome scent that is my son. Tears prickle behind my eyelids at the whiff of Monica on his clothes. She should be here, damn it! "I see that, handsome. Thank you."  
  
"An' cookeded food! Hun'ry, Mama."  
  
"It does smell good, doesn't it?" I ask in a stage whisper, and echo his enthusiastic nod. "Is it done yet?"  
  
"An'lex? Food done yet?"  
  
Alex chuckles and extricates herself from Rachel's embrace to head into the kitchen. Without hesitation, I follow her, breathing deeply of the heavenly smells emanating from the oven. Glancing over her shoulder, I can see the pot roast with all of my favorite vegetables cooking in what appears to be fantastically thick, luscious gravy. And then I notice the apple pie cooling on the countertop.  
  
"Dear god, woman, are you  trying to fatten me up or what?"  
  
"I am following strict orders from Dace, who got them from Monica," Alex replies, pulling out the roasting pan.  
  
"But--"  
  
"I stopped by earlier when you were napping," she explains. "I wanted to get an idea of when you'd be ready to eat, so I could bring the roast over to finish cooking in your oven. And I needed Rachel's help to bring everything over. Plus, she needed to bring the pie over so that the Monkey Twins wouldn't get into it while we weren't looking. Michel came with her and he wanted to color with William, so we just settled in to wait for you. I hope that's okay."  
  
Those tears that had prickled earlier are now blurring my vision slightly. Pressing a kiss to William's cheek, I let him down to go back to his cartoons and coloring with Michel, armed with juice boxes from Alex. My eyes fall on the roses again and I sigh heavily.  
  
"This sucks," I mutter.  
  
"I know it does. That's why Monica left such explicit instructions with us via Dace. She didn't want you to be alone while she's gone."  
  
I snort indelicately at that. "I'm a big girl and I can handle being separated from Monica."  
  
Alex's arm around my shoulder is comforting and I lean into her body. "I know that, and she knows that, but this is different. So you get some company and some good food out of the deal. Hell, you don't even have to clean up after this meal. That's all on me and my minions out there."  
  
"I don't really have a choice here, do I?"  
  
"Nope," she retorts happily.  
  
"Fine," I reply, dramatically rolling my eyes at her. Honestly, I'm grateful for the company and the attention. I really don't want to be alone tonight. "I guess I'll just have to accept it then."  
  
"That's a good girl."  
  
"Smart ass."  
  
+++++  
  
Dinner was a complete hit, and I have procured Alex's culinary services for a special dinner once Monica's come back from Quantico. I want to repeat this meal when we can actually celebrate our anniversary together, no matter how late it is.  
  
The conversation over dinner was amusing and distracting, just as it should have been. I don't know who had me laughing more: the boys or Alex and Rachel. Alexis and Tory did their best to egg the others on to more and more hilarity, and I felt as good as I possibly could with Monica gone.  
  
A soft sound pulls my thoughts to the present and I can see Alexis standing there with Tory. Both look exhausted, but happy, and I set my wine glass aside to stand and offer them both warm hugs.  
  
"Heading back down to your rooms?" When Alexis nods, I pull her into another hug. "Thank you both so much for helping out today. It is greatly appreciated and I'll make sure Monica knows all about this. But you both look pretty worn out, so go on to bed and I'll bring some breakfast down for the two of you tomorrow morning, okay?"  
  
More hugs and thanks are exchanged before they head out to their own living quarters in the bunker. Glancing back, I can see that Alex and Rachel are quietly holding the sleeping boys, long since passed out after dinner and more cartoons. Just as I'm about to take William and put him to bed, my cell phone rings, playing the cheesy mambo that reminds me of Monica.  
  
"Mon?" I ask, heart trip hammering in my chest.  
  
"Happy anniversary, _mi corazon_."  
  
"Happy anniversary, _amante_." Movement in my periphery draws my attention to Alex and Rachel standing up gingerly with the boys, coming toward me. "Hang on a sec, Mon."  
  
"We're just going to put William to bed and head home, so you can have some privacy with Monica," Alex murmurs as Rachel takes William into his bedroom. "If you need anything, just give us a call, okay?"  
  
"Thanks, Alex," I reply and move to sink back onto the couch. Clearing my throat, I return my attention to my phone. "Sorry, Mon, I was saying good night to Alex and Rachel before they leave. They're putting William to bed right now."  
  
"Oh good, they stayed with you until I could call," she replies, relief flooding her voice. "How was dinner?"  
  
"Fantastic! Alex made the most amazing pot roast and Rachel brought an apple pie she baked. They've already agreed to repeat the meal when you get home, so we can enjoy it together."  
  
"I can't wait to taste it." She grows silent for just a moment, and I can feel a strange tightening in my chest. "I miss you."  
  
"I miss you, too." This time, I don't bother to fight the tears prickling like fire behind my eyelids. "I wish you were here."  
  
"I know. But it looks like I should be able to come home either late tomorrow or maybe the day after. I don't think this guy is a Sentinel, but I'm not a hundred percent sure, so I want to do a little more digging for the team."  
  
"I hope they realize how lucky they are to have you. I was feeling very murderous thoughts toward Agent Mulder earlier today."  
  
Monica's delighted laughter eases some of the bands constricting my heart. "Yeah, about that… Well, first off, did you get the flowers?"  
  
"Yours and Mulder's, yes. They were all lovely. Thank you."  
  
"What did he send you?" When I describe the bouquet to her, she lets out an obvious sigh of relief. "Oh good. He should have spent more money, in my opinion. A whole lot more."  
  
That certainly piques my curiosity. "Oh?"  
  
"Well, according to Agent Gideon, Mulder kind of volunteered me to the BAU, but I wasn't necessarily as in dire need as he made it sound. Agents Gideon and Hotchner both apologized for getting us involved in Mulder's weird political agenda, and the whole team's really trying to get me out of here as soon as possible, provided this really isn't a Sentinel that they're looking for."  
  
The reality of her words finally sink in. "I really am going to kill him, Mon."  
  
"No, it's okay. I have promises from both Agent Gideon and Agent Hotchner that they will contact me personally if they need my assistance in the future. They were pretty adamant that I could have very easily done this as a teleconference, like I tried to get Mulder to agree to. Their computer analyst is gifted in ways that you just can't imagine, and said she can get us a secured connection that is practically impenetrable.. I told her I'd have Sam contact her for that kind of technical mumbo jumbo, because we'll probably need it at some point. That's when she started fangirling all over me just because I happen to know 'the great and powerful Sam Carter'. And yes, I did my best not to laugh at her; well, when she started mocking herself, I did join in."  
  
Chuckling, I shake my head and let my eyes close. "You are incorrigible, _amante_. You really need to tell Sam that story when you get home. Okay, maybe not right when you get home. I get you first."  
  
"I think I can handle that." Her next words are cut off as I yawn loudly, jaw popping from the effort. "Have you slept at all today?"  
  
"Yes, dear, I slept for about six hours after the flowers were delivered."  
  
"If you're still tired--"  
  
"I don't want to go to sleep without you," I whisper, cutting off her words. "I hate it when you're gone like this."  
  
"Oh, Dana, _mi corazon_ , I don't like it anymore than you do. But we both need our sleep. Think of it this way. The sooner you get to sleep, the sooner I come home. That help?"  
  
Pouting even though she can't see it, I finally sigh in resignation. "Not really, but it'll have to do. You tell Agent Gideon and his team that once you come home, they can set more normal times to conference with you, and not for the next couple of days. I want you all to myself."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." The silence stretches between us for a moment or two until I yawn again. "Go to bed, Dana. I will visit you in your dreams."  
  
"Okay. I love you, Monica."  
  
"I love you, Dana. See you soon."  
  
"In my dreams."


	3. Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Massage - erotic".

++ Monica ++

(02-14-06)

"How the hell is my favorite FBI agent?"

Glancing up at the intrusion, I narrow my eyes and watch Dace come sauntering into the observation room, surprisingly unencumbered by Rose and the Monkey Twins. Alexis is working with Zo today, more of their art therapy, and I'm really only here in an official capacity to make sure nothing gets out of hand. It's been a great way to get caught up on the paperwork that seems to multiply like bunnies when dealing with the Sentinel Project. Doesn't matter than I've been doing this for four years, it gets crazier as time goes on. We're going to need to get some further assistance pretty soon. Maybe I can talk to FLOTUS, see if she can get the President involved in greasing the wheels to get me a few more agents or something.

The polite, amused chuckle from my side brings me back to the present. With a scowl I stare up at the lanky, blonde Sentinel that started this whole project in the first place. Her wide grin is almost contagious, and I have to consciously fight to keep from joining her.

"Can I help you, Dace?" I finally ask. "Or are you just here to torment me?"

"That depends," she drawls, grabbing a chair next to me with a quick spin to straddle it. Her eyes never leave the scene unfolding on the other side of the observation glass, and I know she's paying just as much attention to me as to Alexis. "When are you outta here?"

Glancing at my watch with a frown, I shrug my shoulders. "When Zo's done, I suppose. I can just take my paperwork back to the apartment if I don't get it done. Well, unless Alexis gets really worked up before this is over, but she's been having another good day today. Why? Am I forgetting something?" Dace actually turns at my words, staring at me with those eerily flashing eyes of hers. Great! I am forgetting something, and it's obviously important if the Cougar's golden eyes are making an appearance. "What?"

"Do you even remember what day today is, Mon?"

"It's Tuesday the fourteenth. And?"

She scrubs roughly at her face. "Oh god, and here I thought I was bad with this kind of thing. Please tell me you at least bought a card? Some chocolates?" I must be staring at her even more strangely than I guessed; she reaches across the desk to grab my phone. Activating the screen, she holds it up to my face so I'm staring at the image there of Dana holding William the day he was born. "Take a look at the date, dumbass."

"Yeah, it's the fourteenth. So?"

There's a saying that realization hits you like a ton of bricks. I am here to tell you that this is so damned true, it's not even funny. It's painful, and hard, and uncomfortable as hell, and makes you want to throw up until your body is completely turned inside out. I can practically feel the blood draining from my face, and have to wonder how it is that I'm not passing out on the spot. I am completely and utterly screwed six ways to Sunday.

Valentine's Day.

"Dana's going to kill me!" I mutter, throat gone dry from resigned disgust. "I promised her I wouldn't forget this year. And I can't leave to get anything, or she'll know I forgot again! Fuck!"

Dace's knowing chuckle has a layer of sympathy; if it doesn't, I'll take the perceived emotion anyway. "It's a damned good thing I know you and your partner's tastes decently well, isn't it? But you're going to owe me, Reyes."

"Yeah, I know. I get to watch the Monkey Twins while you and Catherine have a night to yourselves. I can deal with that kind of deal. What did you get me?"

She reaches into the inner pocket on her beloved leather jacket and pulls out a key ring decked out with triple charms of a dormouse, a tiger, and a red Joker's hat before tossing them to me. "Go check the trike's trunk. There's four packages in there, and they're all labeled, so don't grab the wrong one. Bring it back in and I'll explain it a little more."

Without hesitation, I go to do as ordered, knowing she'll keep an eye on Alexis while I'm gone. Fumbling with the keys, I finally pop the trunk hatch and push aside the packages marked "Dace", "Bane", and "Art". At least I'm not the only one who's an idiot today. I hope. I just would have expected more out of Art and Karen, I guess. Shoving that thought aside as pure speculation that I don't have the time to waste on, I make my way back down to the bunker without arousing any suspicion from anyone else. Especially Dana.

"Okay, so what have I got here?" I ask, slipping back into my chair.

Package set down, I quickly save all of my files and set aside the laptop and my reports for the time being. Dace grins and motions for me to open it. Caught between an overwhelming sense of self-recriminating guilt and childlike curiosity, I ease the items from the bag. There's a lot more in there than I would have expected, too: a folded sheet of shiny, deep red wrapping paper; a coil of darker red satin ribbon; a card in its pristine white envelope; a box waiting to be pressed into shape; a small basket; a package of red raffia; a small heart-shaped box of the expensive Vosges chocolates that Dana adores; a trio of heady beeswax candles; two small bottles of unknown liquids; a small, dark jar; a downy feather; and a long, discreetly charcoal grey box.

"This is your redemption, Monica Reyes," she intones in a low, steady voice. "Seduction in a box. And you don't owe me for this. You owe Tessa big time for this."

"Anything she wants that I can give her, she can have it," I murmur reverently, inhaling the beeswax again. "This is fantastic."

"Top of the line, all of it," Dace replies and points to the charcoal box. "Including that."

And suddenly, I have an idea what is so discreetly boxed up like that. The flush heating my cheeks is embarrassing as hell, especially in front of Dace! Unable to wait any longer, I reach for the box and carefully ease the flap back on the end to peer inside.

"Oh my god!" I breathe, images of what I can do with the item inside sending a delicious shiver down my spine. "Yeah, whatever Tessa wants, she can have it; except for William and Dana, of course."

Dace laughs at that and claps a hand on my back. "You get that all wrapped up pretty and take it home to the little woman. Just make sure William's deeply asleep before you give it to her and start using it, okay?" She pauses for a moment; head cocked to the side as she studies me. "You do still have the stuff that attaches to, right? And some good wine?"

"I'm not a complete incompetent, Bogart," I shoot back. "I know better than to fuck up the toys you've given us by not taking care of them. It's all good. I got it from here. You go play Sexy Saint Valentine to Karen and Art, make sure they get their gifts before it's too late. Once Zo's done here, I think I'm just gonna call it a day and head back to the apartment to spend some quality time with my girl."

"Have fun, Mon," she tosses back over her shoulder as she heads out. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

+++++

Thankfully, when I finally get back to the apartment, there's a note from Dana that she and William have gone to visit with Kerry and Tamia. It's a longstanding agreement that Kerry and Dana have a weekly coffee break with the kids while Zo works her magic with Alexis. This affords me a few minutes to prepare the bedroom for tonight before they return home again. The deeply, sinfully red package rests on the nightstand for all of a minute before I move it to her pillow instead. I'm almost to the bedroom door when I race back and replace it back on the nightstand.

Forcing myself to be satisfied with this arrangement, I head back into the kitchen with the card and the chocolates, which I set aside to start cooking dinner. The very least I can do is make one of Dana's favorite meals. It's not like I can sweet talk Kerry or Alex into cooking for me on Valentine's Day, especially not last minute like this. But first, I really need to check on Dana and William.

"Hey, baby," I say happily, licking at the icing on my knuckle. "You and William having fun?"

"William's decided that he's going to marry Kerry because she made him hotdogs for lunch today," she says with a chuckle. "He even told Zo as much when she came home. He's currently fast asleep in her lap. I'm just waiting until he wakes up to come home. Unless you want to come get him?"

"Are you and Kerry having a good chat today?"

"Definitely. We're going to look into a few outreach program ideas for the clinic, and intend to present them to Anastasia next week. Did you need me to come home?"

"No, no! I was just curious about what you're doing, that's all, considering what day it is and all. Go ahead and come home when _mi hijo [my son]_ wakes up. Dinner will be ready and waiting for you."

"Are you making it?" she asks, her voice going suddenly husky. The sound goes right to my gut and I squirm a bit on my feet. "Please tell me you're making it for me."

"It's Valentine's Day, isn't it? What do you think, babe?" Her delighted squeal makes me chuckle. "And don't you dare wake our son up early just so you can get to the food faster, or you won't get any."

She mutters something under her breath that I don't quite catch, but I get her drift. "Fine," she finally says. "I'll see you when William wakes up. I love you, Mon."

"Love you, too, Dana."

Grabbing for the remote as the call ends, I turn on my favorite radio station and lose myself in the intricate and comforting details of making the meal that Dana begs me for on a regular basis. First the decadent dark chocolate mousse cake is mixed and set to bake, and then I work my mise en place for the kitchen sink lasagna that my mother taught me as a little girl. _Mami_ always said that I'd snag my husband with that lasagna. She'd only been a little off in that estimation, but I certainly had Dana eating out of the palm of my hand the very first time I made it for her. In fact, I'd made it to celebrate our very first Valentine's Day together, even though I hadn't been able to cook it until practically her birthday. There had been far too many more pressing issues to deal with on the newly purchased Ranch at the time.

Before long, the lasagna is replacing the cake in the oven, and my focus becomes the rose petal butter crème icing. I very nearly change the icing to the chocolate ganache she also likes, simply because I didn't think ahead to get a rose to decorate the cake itself. Thankfully, I can get away with the rose water for the icing, and… That ton of bricks hits again as I realize that Kerry made the fondant roses for me last week with this cake in mind - definitely going to need to see about getting someone else to help me with the administrative crap for this project.

The difficult things out of the way, I decide to wait on the garlic bread and salad until right before we eat, so they stay nice and fresh. Glancing at the clock, I realize that nearly three hours have already passed since I started cooking, and Dana's still not home yet. As if on cue, my phone rings, and I grin at the sensual club mix that Zo set up as a ringtone for me. The memories of dancing with Dana to that very song back in Chicago are more than pleasant.

" _Hola, mi corazon_ ," I murmur into the phone.

"Monica!" she whines. "Don't do that! You know what it does to me when you do!"

I can't help the chuckle at her protest, knowing she loves every second of it. "Yes, I do, and I'm hoping to make you do it some more tonight."

"You're incorrigible," she mutters with a huff. "Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know that we're just picking up the last of the toys before we head home, so we should be there in about twenty minutes or so."

"Oh good! That gives me just enough time to shower before you get home. I got a little dirty making dinner and there was no one here to help clean up the mess."

The soft moan from the other end of the phone is following by faint laughter in the background. "I hate you sometimes," she replies, no hint of malice in her voice whatsoever. "But you did save me the beaters? I mean, you saved them for William, right? You know how much he loves his _Mami_ 's icing."

"Yes, the bowl and beaters are in the fridge. I'll see you when you get home, babe."

Once off the phone, I leave the music on and head into the bathroom for my shower. I want to linger under the hot jets, soapy fingers gliding over my own sensitized skin in imitation of what Dana likes to do in the shower, but I can't. I'm not about to get myself off without her here to at least watch. She'd kick my ass! With a lusty sigh for what's yet to come, I quickly finish up my shower and head into the bedroom to get dressed. Nothing fancy tonight, not without giving Dana fair warning to get dressed up herself. No, I think tonight is more about just being together, loving each other and enjoying ourselves, rather than some grandiose scheme to concoct that might not have the same end results.

Slipping into the worn jeans that Dana absolutely adores, I debate one of the sexy lacy bras before going with a simple tank top under a half-unbuttoned oxford shirt, forgoing a bra completely. It's not like I'm going to be wearing any of this stuff for all that long after William's gone to bed. Padding back into the bathroom, I run my fingers through my hair a few times to air dry it a bit and brush my teeth. Before heading back out of the room, I grab a couple of the bath sheets and set them by the side of the bed for later on.

+++++

Dinner goes smoothly, which is a blessing in and of itself with a twenty-month-old boy eating lasagna and cake. Dana keeps shooting me heated glances over the top of William's head, fucking me with her eyes, and I forget how to breathe more times than I really care to remember to count. After dinner and dessert, we open the public presents for Valentine's Day. William is so proud of the macaroni and popsicle stick picture frames he made both of us, with Zo and Alexis' help. And of course, he adores the Thomas the Tank Engine plushy and actually starts walking toward his bedroom without prompting.

"If I'd known that that's all it would take to get him to go to bed on his own, I wouldn't have saved it for today," I say with a laugh, eyebrows waggling at Dana as she brings him back to the couch for a little longer.

"You really are incorrigible and insatiable," she replies, then her eyes go round when she opens the box of chocolates. Dana leans over and plants a kiss full of all sorts of promises on me. She knows by the card that there's something more for later, and wisely says nothing about this in front of our son.

I am impressed by the pocket watch Dana gives me, particularly once I see the picture of our family from Christmas morning on the front within a beautiful border design that I don't immediately recognize. I've never considered wearing such a watch, but I must admit that I could get used to the comfortable, almost familiar weight in my pocket during the day, especially when I'm away from my family.

"I remember my father had always wanted a watch like this," she explains, a finger tracing the delicate ouroboros design on the outside. "He wouldn't dare use one when he was in the Navy, mainly because he didn't want to lose or ruin it. And then, he just never got around to it. I hope you like it."

Without thought, I reach out to pull her into a tight embrace and press a series of small, delicate kisses along her lips and jaw. "Like it? Baby, I love it. This is such a beautiful and thoughtful gift." My voice suddenly cracks as I realize there's an inscription within another ouroboros design on the inside. "Oh my god," I breathe as the words sink in, tears filling my eyes.

Eyes locked on mine, Dana takes one of my hands in hers and presses it to her heart as she reads the inscription. "Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God." She clears her own throat before saying anything more. "It's one of my favorite passages from the Bible." I can only nod slowly, still overwhelmed by the enormity of this gift. "I wanted you to have this. I just…

"When you had to go to Quantico last month to work with the BAU, I was beside myself. I hated that you were so far away, and it really had nothing to do with the fact that it was our anniversary. I've gotten very used to having you around these last four years, and I couldn't function properly with you gone. And when I went to bed that night, after you'd set up everything you had and called to talk to me, this passage ran through my mind just before I fell asleep. When I got up the next morning, I realized just what kind of an impact you've had on my life and I never want to feel as helpless and alone without you as I was that night.

"I love you, Monica, and I am willing to go wherever you go, as long as we're together. You and William are my reasons for existence."

Leaning in for a gentle, humbling kiss, I cling to this woman that has come to mean so damned much to me over the years. William snuggles in between us to press sloppy kisses of his own to our cheeks, and I turn to pepper his face with noisy kisses, making him giggle delightedly. It's enough to bring back a sense of equilibrium for me, so I can actually speak again.

"I honestly don't know what to say, Dana, other than thank you and I love you and William more than anything or anyone else in the world."

She smiles gently, blinking back tears, and I am lost in her eyes for what feels like an eternity. William's head slumping against my shoulder breaks that magical connection between us, and I glance down at the sleepy face of our son. Dana presses a gentle kiss to his temple before brushing her lips against mine.

"Go put him to bed and I'll clean up here," she offers.

"No, don't you move a muscle," I reply, adjusting William's weight as I stand. "Just sit here and enjoy your wine. I'll put _mi hijo_ to bed and get everything into the kitchen."

"And then the other present that you alluded to?" she asks, a slightly teasing lilt to her voice.

"Something like that," I reply, feeling an embarrassed flush crawling up to heat my face, and escape to put our son to bed before anything else is said.

+++++

"You are a very sneaky woman, Monica Reyes," Dana chuckles, taking in the box on the nightstand and the towels next to the bed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you planned on seducing me tonight."

Rubbing at the back of my neck, I hesitate for a moment before answering. "Yeah, about that…" My hand slips into my pocket, stroking the pocket watch. "You can open your present tonight or save it for tomorrow."

Dana turns to study me for a long moment before stepping close enough to wrap her arms around my waist, hands slipping into the back pockets of my jeans. "Are you telling me you've got a headache?" she teases lightly.

"It's not that," I reply, feeling that embarrassed flush creeping up my neck again. "I just feel differently now, after you gave me that watch. Hot monkey love just seems tawdry and cheap in comparison."

"Hot monkey love?" Dana's delighted laughter has a sensual edge that never fails to press the right buttons. "Well yeah, if you're going to call it that, it is going to sound tawdry and cheap!" She leans up on her toes to press a gentle kiss to my lips. "I don't want hot monkey love tonight, Monica, but I do want whatever you planned for me. The pocket watch wasn't supposed to change your plans at all."

"I know."

She tugs me closer for a moment before shifting to take my hand and lead me back toward the bed. Once we're settled, she stretches back to grab the box and sets it between us on the mattress. Her fingers trace the shiny paper and satiny ribbon delicately. "This is so beautifully wrapped, I almost don't want to open it. But I'm dying to know what Tessa picked out for me." My head snaps up to stare at her, but Dana keeps her eyes down on the package between us, continuing in her soft tone. "I know she helped you out, just like she helped several other people who shall remain nameless."

"I'm sorry, _mi corazon_ ," I murmur. "I promised you I wouldn't forget this year, and I did anyway."

Her finger pressed against my lips stops anything further I plan to say in apology. I meet her gaze unflinchingly, expecting to see some sort of recrimination there, finding instead that warm caring that has always melted my heart in mere seconds. This time is apparently no different.

"You remember our anniversary and my birthday, _amante_. Those are the important dates, and that's what's important to me. You even give me gifts on the anniversary of the day we brought Alexis to the Ranch, permanently validating the Sentinel Project. I know you don't forget on purpose." Leaning in, she replaces her finger with her lips for a far too brief kiss. "I know the meal was all you, but the rest of it was Tessa, right?" She chuckles at my nod of agreement. "I figured as much when I got the Vosges chocolates. So what else did she pick out for us?"

The package is carefully unwrapped, the paper folded up for some later use that only she knows. The ribbon she takes and ties in a loose bow around my neck before returning her attention to the box again. Each item is taken out and spread across the bed with the appropriate reactions. She opens each bottle of hand blended massage oils, surrounding us in the scents of sandalwood and cinnamon. A slow grin spreads across her face as she opens the jar of honey dust; dipping the feather daintily inside, she drags it across my lips before leaning in to lick it off my skin sensuously.

"Oh my god," I groan softly when she pulls back to glance hotly up at me from beneath the fringe of her lashes. There is dark promise in those beloved eyes, and I fight the urge to squirm.

Dana simply chuckles and pulls out the last box. One russet brow arches as she studies the box in her hand. She's drawing this out, I know she is. She obviously knows basically what's in that box, given everything else in the gift. Taking a deep breath, she eases the box open and slides out the smaller velvet box inside. Opening it, she stares at the twin silicon dildos within.

"This is an interesting gift," she finally says, the corner of her mouth twitching with the effort not to smile. Lifting one out of the box, she gasps at the sensation I well remember from my own exploration before I wrapped up the gift. "What in the world?"

Reaching for the other dildo, I let it move in my palm. "This is the latest thing that Dace and Michael have been working on. It's got that gel in it, like the stuff we have in the cold packs."

"Are you saying this can be frozen?" Dana's voice has suddenly gone hoarse at the implications of what these new toys could mean.

"Well, yeah. I just didn't freeze one because I wanted you to decide which one is yours," I say, flipping over the one in my hand to show her the end. "The gel's kind of liquidy, so it'll move inside if it's not frozen, too. And see, they're color coded, so we can each have our own. And they can go in the dishwasher, apparently."

"So we're guinea pigs for Dace and Michael?" she muses, absently stroking the dildo in her hand. "They'll want a lot of experimental data for their analysis, too." She licks her lips slowly, the tip of her tongue dragging across her skin. "I want that one," she says, pointing to the dildo in my hand. "The black dot in the base reminds me of your eyes when you get totally turned on."

That does it! To hell with my earlier misgivings about this gift in the face of that pocket watch. I don't even know what color the base of the other dildo is, and I don't care. I won't be mistaking these dildos. With painstaking deliberation, Dana puts everything back in the gift box, except for the dildos and the massage oils. Box set on the nightstand, she grabs for the bath sheets. I'm instantly on my feet to help her spread them across the bed, then slip out of the bedroom to check on William. Thankfully, he's deeply asleep, curled around his Thomas plushy and snoring softly.

When I return to the bedroom, Dana's already pulled out the harness and fitted her new toy into it before resting it on the bed next to her. Lube, the massage oils, and a hand towel lay on the nightstand next to the box. She's slipped off her clothes already and is sprawled back indolently on the bed, eyes burning into me as I come closer.

"You are far too overdressed, _amante_ ," she purrs, one hand lazily gliding down her body.

My mouth goes dry at the sight of her lying there, wanton and needy. Fumbling to remove the few things I'm wearing, my eyes don't leave hers for a single moment. As I lay the pocket watch on my nightstand before slipping out of my jeans, she crawls to the edge of the bed, dragging the harness behind her. The heat of her gaze follows my panties down my legs until I'm standing just as nakedly as she is. She crooks her finger, beckoning me closer for a deep kiss before helping me into the harness. Finally letting me up for air, Dana grins and pulls me onto the bed by the harness, settling me in the center of the bed on my back.

"But I thought--"

"Change of plans," is all she'll say as she straddles my lap, the dildo jutting up along the curve of her ass. The evidence of her arousal warms against my stomach, and I can't help squirming in response. She pours a small amount from each bottle of massage oil into her palm, blending the scents as she warms it up. "Relax, _amante_ , and enjoy."

Who am I to contradict such heady orders? I mouth "I love you" and reach up to stroke her cheek softly as I settle back more comfortably on the bed. Her hands grow slick and shiny from the oil before she leans in to rest them on my shoulders as she kisses me again. Her fingers glide across my face before moving down to massage the oil into my neck and shoulders. The combined scent of sandalwood and cinnamon surrounds me, and I arch into each touch she presses to my body: face, neck, shoulders, arms, fingers, chest. My skin is tingling in the wake of her sensual movements, and I ache to touch her in the same way.

Her fingers tease my nipples into stiff peaks, and each touch sends a jolt of desire straight to my clit. My eyelids slide shut against the onslaught of sensations, my fingers gliding up along her thighs to grip at her hips tightly. Her teeth closing around one nipple is enough to snap my eyes open again to stare at her in shock and arousal. She licks her lips and stretches up to kiss me again, tongue plundering my mouth possessively. I don't even try to stop the groan escaping my lips, nor do I resist the urge to slip a hand between our bodies. Two fingers unerringly find and slip into her pussy as my thumb rubs along her clit.

"Mon," she moans into my mouth, hips bucking into my hand as I slowly fuck her.

It takes less time than I'd have guessed for her to start making those incredibly sexy little whimpers that drive me crazy. Pulling my fingers free, I grip her hips and tug her up toward me. She only hesitates for a brief moment before shifting up to straddle my head. Meeting her heated gaze, I pull her hips down and suck her clit between my lips.

"Oh fucking God," she whines, gripping the headboard for balance as she grinds down against my face.

Smiling against her heated flesh, I suckle and tease her trapped clit with lips, teeth, and tongue until she's a quivering mess above me, teetering on the edge of her orgasm. I stop then, delighting in the twitching muscles to either side of my face for a long moment. And then, with a sudden flick of my tongue, I push her over the edge into oblivion.

I guess we have all night to test out that new toy strapped to my hips.


	4. Mardi Gras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Playing instrument".

++ Dana ++

(02-28-06)

The discordant squeaks and squeals echo in the apartment until I'm ready to scream. And then they just… _stop_. Blessed silence descends and the sharper edges of the tension headache begin to fade away. Heaving a sigh of relief, I return to the report I've been trying to proofread for Monica for the last three hours. Monica is going to regret the day she gave William that damned recorder. Hopefully she can get it away from him before I have to shove it into very inappropriate places as punishment.

Soft footfalls on the hardwood floor alert me to my partner's presence behind me. She makes her way into the kitchen to start a pot of tea from the sounds of it. Tea sounds absolutely fabulous right now. Actually, coffee would be even better, but I've made a promise to give it up for Lent and, while I'd like to be quaffing it like there's no tomorrow, the caffeine withdrawal headaches would make me a serious bitch to deal with. Six weeks without coffee is either going to kill me or cure me of that habit.

"Hey, baby," Monica murmurs, moving to stand behind me again. Her hands rest gently on my shoulders for a moment. "The tea maker's brewing up some really nice chamomile and ginger green tea. Should be ready in a few minutes."

Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against her stomach. "Thank you. Is it gone by the way?"

"I buried it in a box on the top shelf of our closet. I'm really sorry about that, Dana. I thought I could teach him an easy song, like the older kids learned." She strokes one hand across my forehead. "You're pretty tense. Headache?" When I nod, she sighs softly and reaches down to tug at my hand. "Come on."

"But your report--"

"Can wait a few more hours," she cuts in smoothly, leaning over to save the file before tugging me to my feet.

Suddenly more tired than I thought I'd be, I follow her willingly, shuffling into the bedroom to face plant on the bed. Monica's amused snicker is soft, but I still hear it. She pulls back the covers before turning to tug off my sneakers. With gentle hands, she works off the over-shirt and jeans I've been wearing today, leaving me in t-shirt and underwear. A moment passes in silence, and I feel I could almost fall asleep right in this position, regardless of the fact that my calves and feet still dangle over the end of the bed.

Warm hands envelop my left foot, massaging in long even strokes that leave nothing untouched. After a few moments of this, she switches to repeat the same moves on my right foot. Her fingers unerringly find and subdue sore spots I didn't even know could be in my feet. Surprisingly enough, I can feel the knots in my skull starting to loosen the longer she continues. Eventually, she begins to work her way up my calves and thighs. This isn't her typical sensual massage; rather than being turned on, I find myself relaxing more and more, practically falling asleep in my spot. Those beloved fingers move up under my shirt, subjecting my back to the same delicious torture. And then they move up to my neck and scalp. Oh god, I seriously want to just melt into the mattress right now.

"Dana?" she murmurs, close enough that her breath stirs the hairs against my cheek. "Come on, baby, let's get you up into bed."

"'M okay where I am."

Her delighted chuckle sends a lazy thrill down my spine. "I'm sure you are now, but when you wake up, you'll hate me."

I can't deny the truth to her words. Grumbling softly, I roll over and gingerly sit up. Just a little bit of vertigo accompanies the movement, and my neck cracks loudly in the otherwise quiet room. "Oh, that's better," I sigh happily, rolling my head back and forth a couple of times.

"Get yourself settled in bed and I'll bring in your tea," Monica says with a smile, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. "In fact, I think I'll join you. You're still feeling a little tense."

"I feel fine," I mutter, but plan to do as she's requested.

Monica slips out of the room to get the tea as I crawl backwards up the bed. It takes a moment to get the covers pulled up over my legs, particularly after the pounding resumes for a few seconds inside my skull. Damned headache! Leaning back against my pillows and the headboard, I rub at my temples in an attempt to quell the drum solo.

The heavenly scents of chamomile, ginger, lemon, and honey waft over to my nose, and I sigh happily. Blinking once or twice upon opening my eyes, I watch Monica bring the tray with our mugs of tea over to the bed. Hers goes on her nightstand before she holds mine out to me. Fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic, I pull the mug closer to my face, letting the steam and fragrance soothingly surround me until my eyes close again. I don't even want to take a sip of the tea yet.

Some small part of my brain keeps track of Monica, so I'm not wholly startled when she sits next to me a few moments later. "Hey," she whispers, fingers stroking down my cheek to get my attention. Once she has my notice, she holds out two pills in her palm. "Take both of these. They should help with your headache."

As I take them, knowing them instinctively for the painkillers they are, she pulls out a small vial and rubs the roller tip against my temples and a swipe under my nose. The immediate pungency of peppermint and lavender briefly wars with the tea's heady aromas before they blend into a wholly organic and comforting blend. Sipping at the tea, I sigh happily.

"Thank you, _amante_ ," I murmur with a grateful smile.

"You're welcome, but I'm not done with you yet," she says and sets my mug on the nightstand.

Leaning in to press a light kiss to my lips, she begins a slow massage of my face and scalp. The movements, combined with the heady scents in the air, quickly cause me to grow even sleepier. If I didn't know that she gave me painkillers, I'd almost wonder if she slipped me some sort of sleeping pills. In next to no time, I feel my head falling forward, forehead resting against her shoulder. She's murmuring something under her breath as her fingers continue to massage scalp, neck, and shoulders. I've no idea what she's saying, and couldn't really give a damn right now.

"Okay, let's get you down into the bed," she finally says in a volume that I actually hear and understand.

Following her suggestion, I ease down and curl up on my side, hand slipping up under my pillow out of habit. My eyes are practically shut as my head hits the pillow. I must lose a moment or two then because I don't feel Monica getting up and moving to crawl in on her side of the bed. The next thing I know, she's curling up behind me, spooning her long body up against mine.

"Love you, Mon," I mumble.

" _Te quiero, mi corazon (I love you, my heart)_ ," she replies, pressing a light kiss to my temple.


	5. St. Patrick's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Wine".

++ Monica ++

(03-17-06)

Even after four years of living here at the Ranch, it never ceases to amaze me how much Dace goes all out for the parties out here. All of the major holidays, birthdays, anniversaries. It doesn't matter what the reason is, so long as there can be some sort of party. It certainly makes things easier as far as designated drivers go.

The Great Room is hopping with all of the families waiting for Kerry and Rachel to signal that the food's finally ready. Most of the kids are still giggling over Karen's dramatic reading of _Green Eggs and Ham_ earlier, particularly since she and Dace rigged up some actual green eggs and ham for effect. William and Michel stared at those eggs for the longest time, completely mesmerized.

"Ready for a refill?"

Darya's voice cuts into my thoughts and I glance up to see her standing there, dressed up like a leprechaun bar wench. Her décolletage is certainly enhanced in all of the best ways by the outfit, and I can't help but stare at the sight. The thought of Dana wearing that same outfit nearly has me choking on my own tongue. The sharp elbow to my ribs stuns the breath out of me.

"Eyes back in your head, mister," Dana mutters darkly.

"Sorry, baby," I reply sheepishly, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. "I was just--"

"I know what you were just, Monica Reyes," she says, but the twinkle in her eye belies the gravity of her tone. "And you can just plan on not just, if you know what's good for you. Or you can plan on sleeping on the couch tonight. Capiche?"

With an amused twitter of a laugh, Darya leans over to refill my mug from the pitcher before doing the same with Dana's wine glass. The movement puts even more emphasis on her more than ample chest and I force myself to look away. Only to find myself staring into the malachite eyes of one Karen Taylor. Jeezus, but I am in a world of hurt right now.

"How's the wine, Dana?" Karen asks, walking up to our table. She slaps Darya's ass, grinning wolfishly at the coquettish squeal from her wife. "I'm only asking because I found the winery on my last trip out to San Francisco. Anastasia said she's looking to find a new winery to purchase from and this one's in the running."

"It's actually pretty good," Dana replies, taking another sip. "I’m not nearly as thrilled with it once it starts getting warm though. Maybe that's just this particular vintage? But I was very impressed with it when it was first chilled out of the bottle."

Karen nods, absently presenting her mug to her wife for a refill. "Fair enough, I'll check with Anastasia on the same thing. My wine palate's gone to shit over the years."

"Quarter, Kryn!" Fawn calls from across the room.

"I swear that kid has some sort of sonar for hearing the curse words," Karen mutters, digging into her pockets. "Of course, I'm lacking in change, and I'm not giving that little shark a fiver."

The child in question appears next to us, beaming up at Karen as she holds out her hand imperiously. "You said a bad word, Unca Kryn."

"Yes, I did, but you're going to have to put this quarter on my tab. I have no money on me at all."

Fawn's dark eyes narrow shrewdly as she stares at Karen for a long moment. Finally she huffs a sigh and crosses her arms across her chest. "Fine, but you owe me three dollars and seventy-five cents now." And with that, she stalks off to join Emily, Cubby, and Justin in teaching the smaller kids some sort of bean bag tossing game.

Once she's out of normal hearing range, Karen scrubs a hand over her face and sighs. "That kid is more like her mother than I care to think about. I fear the day she gets any sort of real power."

Dana laughs and takes a sip of her wine. "You better be careful, Karen, or her mother will hear you. And I know just how much you actually fear her mother."

"Wait," Darya says suddenly, turning to face her wife. "You owe her nearly five dollars for the swear jar? Karen Taylor, what have you--"

Anything further she might say is swallowed by the kiss that Karen plants on her. Quick reflexes on my part save pitcher, wine bottle, and Karen's mug from becoming so much shattered glass and ruined alcohol on the floor. Dana pulls all of the items further from the edge of the table, then rests her chin on her hand to watch the show in front of us. In practically no time at all, Karen and Darya attract a small crowd of people. It's not until Sofia catcalls them that they pull away from the involved kiss. Darya flushes hotly with a squeak, the color making its way down beneath the low neckline of her dress, and quickly grabs up the bottle and pitcher to head into the relative safety of the kitchen.

"Where's a video camera when you need one?" Dace calls from across the room, where she's helping Alexis and Tory keep some of the smaller children occupied. "Hey, Bane, any chance you two can repeat the performance for me later tonight after all the rugrats are down for the night? It sounded pretty hot!"

"You know, you can bite my a--" She stops suddenly, feeling several pairs of young eyes turning to land on her, led by the little quarter shark herself. Sighing, Karen digs into her pocket and pulls out the five dollar bill in her wallet. "Here, Fawn," she says, holding the bill out toward the girl. "I get four more after the one I'm about to use before you can come ask me for more. We clear?"

"Yes, Kryn," comes the smug chortle of agreement as the girl snatches the bill from her outstretched fingers.

"Candace Bogart, you can bite my ass," she finally says and turns to bow toward Dana and me. "Thank you both for watching my beer. I'd hate to waste a good mug of beer like that."

With that, she heads off toward the blonde menace that brought us all together in the first place. I can't really deny what she said about the beer, and I take a healthy pull off my mug. This is some of the best beer I've had in a long time. The sound of Dana chuckling tears my eyes away from Karen's retreating form.

"What's so funny, baby?"

"Just this," she replies, leaning closer to snake out her tongue, dragging it along the head foaming on my upper lip. "Mmm, that's some good beer."

"Yeah, it is," I stammer, enticed by the dark promise in her eyes, and hold up my mug. "Wanna drink?"

"No, but I'll have another taste," is all she says as she leans in again for a lingering, exploratory kiss.

Her tongue glides within my mouth, stroking everything it can touch before tangling with mine. The taste of her wine mingling with my beer is definitely a unique taste, and not one that I'd normally consider, but if it means getting a kiss like this, I'll certainly try it again in the future. Her hand slips up to cup the back of my skull, fingers massaging my scalp as the kiss deepens. I know it's me whining when she pulls back from the kiss, but I don't want to admit it. Not even when she lets that dark, knowing chuckle loose again. I am in such a world of hurt right now, and the beer's only made it worse.

"There's more of that for you later," she murmurs in my ear, breath hot on my skin. "Unlike Darya and Karen, I'm not much into the public making out sessions. At least not since we had to do it undercover four years ago. But I can think of a show or two I might be persuaded to give when we're home alone tonight."

Oh god, I hope William gets completely worn out between the games and the food. I think I'm going to be doing a little hunting for Irish gold tonight. And if I'm lucky, I'll get the rainbow at the end of the journey, too.


	6. Vernal Equinox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Love letter".

++ Dana ++

(03-20-06)

It started out like a normal Monday morning. I got up to shower first, planning to get breakfast made for everyone while Monica napped a little longer. It was a crazy weekend of starting the weeding process in the gardens and we all ended up pretty worn out last night. William passed out in the bathtub and never actually ate his dinner. By now, he's been asleep for over twelve hours, which means he's going to be a ravenous bear when he finally wakes up. I already decided last night that I'd make waffles this morning for my two dearest loves.

I yawn and start a pot of tea before getting the bowl and the Bisquick out of the cupboards. Going to get the milk, I find a piece of paper taped to the carton. Curiosity could easily kill this cat, and I tug the paper off the carton easily to read it. Immediately recognizing Monica's distinctively angular handwriting, I have to wonder what she's forgotten and needed to tell me via note on the milk carton.

> _Dana,_
> 
> _I know it's not our anniversary or your birthday, or even William's birthday, but I felt the urge to write you a little letter. I guess it's probably silly to be doing something like this, when I tell you that I love you several times a day every day, but I know that having it written down, tangible proof, is a good thing, too._
> 
> _I just wanted to let you know how much I love you, and how very fortunate I feel to have you in my life. Well, you and William both, actually. You mean everything to me, and every single day I take the time to thank any deity that's out there and listening for bringing you into my life. I've never known anyone like you before._
> 
> _I love you, baby._
> 
> _Yours always,  
>  Monica_

Blinking back unexpected tears, I set the letter aside and move to start mixing the waffle batter. It doesn't last long, and I find myself picking up the letter again to reread it. The tea is fully brewed before I can really get myself to leave that letter alone long enough to start making breakfast. It's pathetic how sappy and pathetic a simple letter from Monica can make me. I've grown soft over the years, that's all there is to it.

Reaching for the remote, I turn on the television, intent on listening to the morning news while I cook for my beloved family. The local news anchors drone on in the background, a more or less pleasant hum to keep me from obsessing over that letter from Monica. The first two rounds of waffles turn out beautifully and as soon as I get the third started, I head back to the refrigerator to grab the eggs and bacon. Monica and William did an awful lot of work over the weekend, and I'm feeling in the mood to truly spoil them this morning.

The bacon cooks up just the way they like it: crispy and just this side of burnt. I wonder sometimes what they find so wonderful about nearly charred bacon, but they both gobble it up like their lives depend on it. William takes after his _Mami_ just a little too much sometimes, but far be it from me to complain about that. I am thrilled that they are as close as they are.

Stowing the bacon in the oven with the waffles, I get started on the eggs and the toast. William's scrambled eggs are the easiest to make, and I'm once again glad that I snagged a little bit of the grated cheese from the main kitchen last night before bed. He can't eat his eggs without their yellow hair. I have absolutely no idea where he got that idea from, but I am not going to change his mind and potentially get him to stop eating something over a silly little thing like that.

"Mama?"

Speak of the devil! William's sleepy voice comes over the baby monitor, and I feel my heart beat just a little faster in response. Shifting the pan off the heat, I head into his bedroom to find my son sitting up in his crib, rubbing at his eyes with one hand and clutching at his Thomas toy with the other.

"Good morning, handsome," I say in a soft voice, leaning over to pull him up out of the crib. His sleep-warmed body feels good against my chest, and I stand there for a long moment, just reveling in the scent and feel of him as he rests his head on my shoulder. "Did you have a good sleep?"

When he nods, I grin and press a kiss to each of his cheeks, which makes him giggle and mimic the movement with the sloppy enthusiasm of the very young. As he leans back to smile at me, I see his nostrils flaring as he smells the breakfast, his little tummy rumbling loudly. "Hun'ry, Mama," he says with another giggle.

"Yes, you are! You didn't have your dinner last night." We head out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. Plopping him into his high chair, I break off a small bit of waffle for him and fill his sippy cup with orange juice. "How about you have this while I finish your _Mami_ 's eggs; then we can go wake her up? Does that sound good?"

William claps delightedly, reaching for the food as Thomas falls to the floor. Without thought, I lean over to pick up Thomas and set him on the counter where William can see him. Stroking a hand over his pale red curls, I sigh happily and turn back to working on my and Monica's eggs. Just as the eggs are ready to be plated, I hear the bedroom door open, followed quickly by William's squeal of greeting.

"Good morning, love," I murmur, as she comes up behind me to nuzzle at my neck. "Sleep well?"

"I woke up lonely and smelling bacon. I didn't know if it was real or a really messed up dream."

Chuckling, I turn to bestow a light kiss on her lips. "At least you didn't say it was a nightmare," I tease, stroking her cheek. "But you are in trouble with me right now." Her face falls and I can see the wheels turning in her mind as she tries to figure out what she's done wrong. "You made me get all teary eyed this morning when I read that letter you wrote."

"Oh! That," she says, relief etched in every line on her beloved face. "I wanted it to be longer, more eloquent, but I was falling over dead from exhaustion last night."

"I'm not surprised, Mon, you did a lot yesterday."

With practiced ease, I pull the food from the oven while Monica gets the plates and silverware. We get the food dished up and moved to the dining table with a minimum of fuss. As I grab the juice, tea, and Thomas, Monica wheels William's high chair over to the table. Silence descends over us as we decimate the food in front of us. William doesn't even cry for his beloved _Blue's Clues_ as he eats. I'm not sure who ends up eating more: William or Monica. But I'm definitely glad that I made extra bacon and waffles this morning.

"So what's on the agenda today?" Monica eventually asks as she leans back to sip at her tea.

"Not much," I reply honestly. "I figured we'd let Alexis and Tory have a day alone today to decompress after all the work in the garden over the weekend. It was an awful lot of exercise and exposure to a lot of people for Alexis."

"Yeah, I figured I could work from here."

I shake my head emphatically. "Nope, no work today. Today is for us. Just the three of us doing something fun and not work-related. I don't want any responsibilities beyond making sure that you and William are happy today."

Monica chuckles and clucks her tongue. "Wow! The mighty Dana Scully shirking responsibilities? And on a weekday to boot? I think the world's coming to an end!" She laughs delightedly as my swat comes nowhere near her shoulder that I tried to aim for. At William's happy giggle, we repeat the movement; neither of us can deny that boy much of anything. "So what do you want to do then?" she finally asks when his attention is drawn to his waffle again.

"I don't know. All I do know is that I'm not interested in anything that has to deal with gardening or plants today."

A commercial comes on the television for the Las Vegas Zoo, complete with that massive lion roaring. William goes completely still when the commercial begins, eyes glued to the television. I can see his little body quivering in anticipation of that great roar, and I tense against his reaction. Right on cue, the lion's roar reverberates in the room, quickly followed by William's higher-pitched echo of the sound. Another commercial replaces it, and his attempts at a roar are replaced by his chant of "Arr! Arr! Big kitty arr!"

One look at Monica shows she's doing her damnedest to bite back the urge to join him. There's a twinkle in her eyes that makes her look so much younger than she is, and I find it adorable and exacerbating by turns most days. Today, it's one of the cutest -- and if I'm honest, one of the sexiest -- things I've seen, and I look back and forth between them.

"The zoo then?" I ask dryly. When the pair of them begin to clap happily, I chuckle and shake my head. "You're as bad as he is, Monica Reyes."

"But you love me for it, right?" she asks, leaning in to brush the tip of her nose against mine.

"Of course! Perish the thought that I would ever not love you, Mon," I reply, wrapping my arms around her neck to kiss her lightly. "You are the world to me, _amante_."

"And you to me."

With a sigh, I straighten up and begin to gather the dishes. "I'll get the kitchen if you get handsome over there dressed and ready to go. And while you're at it, you might as well activate the phone tree and see who else wants to hit the zoo with us. I think we all deserve it after the work we did this weekend."

"Great idea, babe!" Monica replies, scooping William up into her arms. "Come on, _mi hijo_ , let's go get you cleaned up and call Auntie Darya and see if the kids want to come to the zoo with us."

As they wander off into the bedroom, William's excitement has him stuttering his words a bit as he repeats Emily's name and makes his adorable lion's roar. I'm not surprised in the slightest that he knows exactly what cat spirits the younger Sentinels have. Shaking off the thoughts that will lead to work and reconsidering my decision to shirk responsibilities today, I return to the task of cleaning up the detritus of our devoured breakfast. In fact, other than a few of William's favorite snacks, I'm going to give us a major treat and we'll eat everything at the zoo itself.

We deserve it, my loves and I, and our extended family, as well. If only Tory and Alexis could join us, it would make the outing all the sweeter.


	7. Daylight Savings Time Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Showering together".

++ Sam Carter ++

(04-02-06)

"I am so sorry, Garcia," I reply, resisting the urge to blush from embarrassment. "I really thought that they remembered this teleconference meeting this morning. Let me try to call them really quick."

"Really, it's not a problem. Besides, it's not like we need them to work on the secured connections, right?"

"No, we don't, but you came in on your day off to get this taken care of and Monica should be here as the head of the project," I argue and force myself to count to ten in Ancient Egyptian before offering her a tight smile.

Grabbing the phone, I quickly dial the extension up to Dana and Monica's apartment. It rings half a dozen times before going to the voicemail system. Sighing, I hang up before the message even ends and try Monica's cell phone instead. That only rings twice.

"H'llo?"

"Mon? It's Sam." The smile on my face and in my voice is totally faked, and I really don't know that I care if it sounds like that or not. "Where the hell are you?"

"'M sleeping. Why're you calling so early?"

That causes me to chuckle. "You don't remember the teleconference with Garcia, do you?"

There's grumbling in the background, two voices from the sounds of it. Obviously Dana's up now, too. Good. This is really unprofessional, especially for Monica as the head of this whole project.

"Sam?" That's Dana's voice now. "Why are you waking us up at nearly seven in the morning on a Sunday?"

"Because it's actually nearly eight, and you're both late for the teleconference about the secured connections with Garcia."

"No, we're not. The alarm's" -- the sound of said alarm clock blaring in the background actually makes me jump -- "just going off now. We've got half an hour yet before the meeting. Mon's just heading for the shower now."

Squeezing the bridge of my nose to suppress a sigh, I shake my head. "Daylight Savings Time, Dana. You didn't set your clocks ahead last night, did you?"

"Oh fuck!" she mutters harshly. "We'll be down ASAP."

And with that, the line goes dead. Hanging up with a shrug, I grin back at Garcia. "They should be down in just a few minutes."

+++++

++ Monica ++

The water's barely warming up as I step under the showerhead, yawning loud enough to make the sound echo in the bathroom. I'm just sticking my head into the spray when the bathroom door slams open.

"You don't have time for a shower," Dana says, hurriedly reaching for the brush to run through her hair. "We're late for the telec--"

"No, we're not. We've got enough time to get in showers and be on time, baby."

She stops her brushing mid-stroke and turns to stare at me. Oh god, I hate that look on her face.

"Daylight Savings Time, Mon. Spring fucking forward. We're late," she snaps, starting back out of the room.

"Dana!" The sound of her name so sharply on my lips pulls her up short in the doorway. "Get back and here and get in this shower. We reek of sex and lube, and I am not about to go downstairs anywhere near Alexis smelling like that." I step back, holding the door open for her. "Come on, we'll soap up really quickly and dry off. Then I can slip into something comfortable, but presentable and head down to the office while you get William over to Darya's place before joining us."

She hesitates for a moment, and I can see indecision warring in her eyes. Unable to wait too long, I start to close the door and grab for the shampoo, but her hand on the door stops me. For once, I 'm grateful that we didn't bother with jammies or anything after last night's calisthenics, as she eases into the shower pretty quickly. Stepping back to let her under the spray, I work shampoo into my own hair before lathering up her silken tresses. Without thought, my body begins to respond to her closeness as I massage the suds into her hair.

As I work the mini-loofah over my face, Dana grabs for the shower gel and the larger pouf. Her hands move the pouf over my body with practiced ease, and I can feel my nipples stiffening from the almost careless touch.

"No way," I sigh, glancing down to confirm what I can feel.

That causes Dana to stop and look up at me, pouf-filled hand pausing just inches from the juncture of my hip and leg.

"Mon, we don't have time for this," she growls softly, but without any kind of malice in her tone, and she continues to scrub me down.

"I know."

I take deep breaths, trying to think of, well, anything other than the thought of my beautiful partner on her knees in front of me, washing my legs and feet and… Damn! Damn damn damn! My hand moves to rest on the top of her head for a brief moment before I snatch it away as if burned.

"You have got to be kidding me, Monica Reyes! We don't have time for this!"

Dana gets to her feet and none too gently turns me around to scrub the pouf over my back and legs. Each swipe of the nylon pouf against my skin leaves a trail of goose bumps in its wake. I should know better than to get turned on, especially at a time like this, but I can't help myself. I love it when we shower together, and it's truly a testament to how tired I was that I really didn't think this through before suggesting it in the first place. I lock my elbows, arms outstretched against the wall, and shift my legs further apart for balance. As she continues cleaning, I can hear that she's muttering something under her breath, but the exact words escape me. When she grips my hip for leverage to get back to her feet, I can't suppress the soft moan at her touch.

"Oh for god's sake!" she growls.

I stand there for a moment, trying to get myself under control again before I start to turn around to rinse off and help her soap up, but am stopped by a firm hand in the middle of my back. The pressure startles me just enough that I lean toward the wall a little too quickly and very nearly smack my forehead against the tiles.

"Ow!"

"Don't move," is all she says, body pressing up against mine.

The soap on my skin causes some delicious friction between us, and I suck in a breath at the sensation of her nipples gliding against my lower back. One hand tightly grips my hip for balance as she starts to stretch her other hand around to slip between my legs. When she suddenly pulls back, I whine and shift back toward her a little more. This only gets me a sharp slap on the ass that sends a jolt of arousal arrowing straight to my clit.

++ Sam ++

Glancing at the clock again, I sigh softly and shrug at Garcia again. "Maybe you're right," I finally say. "They do have to get their son taken care of as well. We might as well get started with the actual geek speak and fill them in when they get down here."

"I think that's an excellent idea. So what were you thinking you'll need on my end to make sure that all communications are completely locked down between our two locations?"

Falling into the comfortable banter of computers and technology with an adult who really does get what I'm talking about, I resolve to find a way to make Monica and Dana pay for this.

++ Monica ++

"Oh fuck, baby."

The sensation of her body gliding down mine as she drops to her knees again is heavenly, and my ass pushes back just a little more, for which I'm rewarded with another sharp slap.

"I told you not to move."

I open my mouth to answer her, but the words completely fail me as her fingers slide down my skin to skitter across my lips and clit. My breath hitches in my throat as I wait for her to touch me again. It feels like an eternity, with my skin crawling in need of her touch, but eventually her hand cups my whole sex, thumb rubbing lightly against my perineum. Whining softly, I can feel my body tremble against her touch, but do everything in my power not to move.

Her lips press against the curve of one ass cheek as two fingers slip into my clutching pussy. She thrusts a few times before holding completely still within my body. I can feel my muscles twitching and clenching around her fingers, my skin crawling with the need. Dana sighs softly, her only warning before she begins thrusting again, setting up a hard and steady rhythm. Try as I might, I cannot keep still, and push back to meet each thrust fully.

When she adds a third finger as her other hand reaches around to tease at my clit, I very nearly bite through my lower lip. Each deep movement is met with a low moan or grunt as my arousal spirals tighter and tighter toward my clit.

"Come on, _amante_ ," she chants softly. "Come for me. Let it go, don't hold back for me."

Thumb and forefinger have my clit trapped, relentlessly massaging the sensitive organ. The fingers of her other hand speed up a bit, going a little deeper, a little harder than before. My breath is coming in gasps, lungs just as much on fire as my skin at the moment, and I feel that sensation of hyperventilation on the horizon.

Suddenly, she steps up her teasing and thrusting, fingers now fluttering deep within my clenching pussy before curling forward to press down on my G-spot, over and over again. I lose count of how many times she does this before my spine snaps to rigid attention, orgasm exploding out from deep in my body. The whole world fizzes out like so much bad reception on a television until only my heart and clit frantically beating in unison matters. She continues to press her fingers against my G-spot and clit, extending my orgasm out as long as she possibly can.

"Stop," I finally whimper, body moving closer to the tile wall, tremors still dancing along all of my nerves. "No more. Please, baby, no more."

Dana's hands immediately still and ease away from my body. Beyond the harsh rasping of my breath, I can hear her getting to her feet behind me. The cap to the shower gel bottle snaps open for a brief bit before closing again. The sounds of her soaping up and rinsing off go to great lengths to help calm me down in the aftermath of that orgasm. Eventually, her hand rests lightly against my shoulder blade.

"Mon?"

"Wow," is all I can say.

Dana chuckles and strokes her hand down my back gently. "Come on, love, let's get you washed up and back into bed."

"But the meeting--"

"I'll take care of it. It's the least I can do."

Smiling dopily at her, I do what I can to help Dana with getting me washed up and rinsed off. She briskly dries me off, wrapping me in a towel, and helps me sit on the toilet before she dries off herself. When she heads into the bedroom to get dressed, I slowly follow behind her and stretch out on the bed. My eyes sleepily follow her movements until she moves to lean over me to press a light kiss to my lips.

"Get some rest, love. I'll take William down to nap on my shoulder while we finish up the meeting."

"'Kay," I murmur and roll onto my side as she pulls the covers up over my towel-clad body. "Love you, baby."

"Love you, too, Mon. See you in a little while."

++ Sam ++

When Dana finally wanders down to the office, William asleep in her arms, I shoot her a barely restrained grin. I love it when she brings him around to visit. Plus, I know there's some sort of story for Monica not joining us after all. I wonder if the goofy grins and giggles coming from Alexis' room are any indication of what happened up in their apartment or not.

"Sorry I'm late," she says as she settles in the chair next to me, just the faintest trace of a flush to her cheeks. "Monica won't be joining us. She ended up feeling under the weather when she was in the shower. Hence me bringing my sleeping companion with me." She gives me an apologetic, almost pleading look before turning to greet Garcia. "I'm really sorry about this, Garcia. I completely forgot about the time change last night." And then she mutters, "I really hate Daylight Savings Time."

"Oh please! Don't worry about it," Garcia replies with a wave of her hand. "I had fun just geeking out with Sam here. I'm still jealous as hell that you guys not only work with her, but live with her, too. Super jealous, really."

"Oh stop!" I reply with an embarrassed chuckle. "So let's show Dana what we've got figured out so far."

And with that, we launch into an explanation that I know from experience will confuse the daylights out of Dana. Pun entirely intended, too.


	8. Earth Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Sunburn".

++ Dana ++

(04-22-06)

The sun is just starting to go down as we place the pot holding the last columnar apple tree in the fruit grove. I remember when Darya started going on and on about these apples; it was after a conversation she'd had with her father last month. She did all the research and swore that we'd have apples this first year, based on what her father had told her of his own experiences with them. Stepping back to survey the progress we've made, I heave a sigh of relief and watch Emily and Cubby dutifully going around to water all of our new transplants, either in the ground or in pots. There are still a good deal of plants and flowers to get in the ground yet, but we really wanted to focus on getting all of the trees done today for Earth Day.

"All right!" Dace says with a loud clap of her hands. "I think it's time for a round of baths" -- I chuckle as all of the children groan at this point -- "and then we can meet in the Great Room and see if Auntie Kerry has something yummy to eat for dinner. A little fairy told me that there might even be some homemade ice cream waiting for dessert."

That certainly gets all of the kids to change their minds on baths. There is momentary chaos as the kids all run to their respective grownups and clamor for the chance to have some ice cream. It takes a few more moments before they can be calmed down enough to help put tools and hoses away before heading off to their various homes.

William is no different than the others, but he's getting tired and clingy. Monica easily scoops him up into a bear hug, and I smile at his delighted giggle. Turning to face me, she grins and stretches out a hand toward me.

Waving our temporary goodbyes to the others, we head toward our apartment. The fatigue weighs heavily on me with each step, but I know I need to make an appearance. I am not about to miss out on Kerry's homemade ice cream; it's the stuff of legends and one of my most favorite parts of living here at the Ranch.

Stepping into the apartment, I immediately head for the kitchen and dig out one of the Gatorades chilling in the refrigerator. In one long drink, I manage to swallow over half of the bottle, but it only takes the barest edge off the headache beginning to pound behind my eyes. Leaning against the counter, I take my time finishing off the bottle and listen to the sounds of Monica helping William with his bath.

"Baby? You gonna shower first or should I?" Monica calls out from the main bathroom.

I flush hotly at the memory of what happened the last time we were on a schedule and showered together. It was a lot of fun, but Sam still hasn't let me live it down yet, and it's been nearly three weeks already. I fear having to talk to Garcia again, but I'm not one hundred percent sure that she didn't know what was going on that day.

"Dana?"

"Sorry, Mon!" I call out, grabbing another bottle of Gatorade before I head into the bathroom.

"Hi, Mama!" William chirps happily, slapping at the water.

"Hey there, handsome," I reply, dropping down to sit on the toilet, and open the second Gatorade. "Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah! Mama red!"

At his words, Monica turns sharply to look at me. "Oh my god! Dana, you're pretty red. You feeling okay?"

"I guess?" I reply honestly. "I’m a little warm, a little thirsty." I pause for a moment, the conversation of the last couple of moments replaying in my head, before I turn to look at myself in the mirror. What in the hell happened to me today?

"How much water did you get today?" When I shrug, Monica clucks her tongue at me. "And you forgot sunscreen after that first dose this morning, didn't you?"

Eyes closed momentarily, I think back over the events of the day and nod reluctantly. "I was so worried about making sure William didn't burn. No wonder I'm on my second one of these," I say before taking another drink from the bottle.

"And you completely forgot about yourself. That's really smart, Dana," she teases lightly. "Finish that bottle and then take a cool shower. Once you're done, I'll rub some aloe vera on your skin."

"I'd rather have the Noxzema," I admit, preferring the cool creaminess.

"I know, but we can do that after we get back from dinner and ice cream," she replies, pulling William out of the tub and starting to dry him off. "Unless you want to make it even more obvious what happened. You know that Kerry is gonna be on your behind for this."

I groan at the realization that she's right. Kerry is definitely going to kill me. Stroking a finger down my own cheek, I can feel the heat emanating from my skin. I really should know better than to do something this stupid. I took the time to make sure my son doesn't get a sunburn, focused on it with the passion of a mama bear. But did I think to shed a little of that focus on myself? Nope. And now I'm going to pay for it. Sighing, I turn to press a kiss to Monica's cheek, hand stroking through William's damp hair.

"Give me a few to shower and I'll take care of William while you shower," I say softly with a smile before heading into our bedroom.

Peeling off my clothes, I cringe at the extent of my sunburned skin. My only consolation is that it's only my face and chest that are affected. Hopefully, I won't have any issues with wearing any clothes while this heals. Stepping into the shower, the cool water feels so damned good on my skin. I just stand there under the spray, letting the water sluice down over my body for a few moments before I can even think about doing anything else. Moving to shampoo, I cringe at the surprising tenderness on my scalp. This is definitely not good.

+++++

"I think someone's going to need another bath," Monica teases gently as she gathers William up into her arms. "He's got to be wearing more ice cream than he ate!"

Before I can reply, a warm washcloth appears in my hand, and I find Kerry standing next to me with a smile on her face. "All of the kids have them," she explains, but I can tell she's studying me closely as I hand the cloth to Monica, who begins to wipe the worst of the stickiness from William's face and hands.

"I'm fine, Kerry," I reply automatically, feeling more than a little unnerved to be on the receiving end of that scrutiny. "When we get home, Monica's going to slather me up with Noxzema, and I'm planning to take some motrin and drink water until I'm floating."

Her hand moves up to press against my forehead, cheek, and the back of my neck. "I was hoping you'd cool down a little more by now," she finally says, a hint of worry in her voice. "Soak in a cool tea bath when you get back to your apartment, okay? Do it before the Noxzema. In fact, don't do the Noxzema, use lavender essential oil instead." I start to protest, but she holds up that same hand to stop me. "Just humor me, okay, Dana? I'd be recommending the same thing for anyone else that was stupid enough to forget the sunscreen on a day like this."

Wrinkling my nose at the extra attention that I don't feel is deserved, I nod in acquiescence. "Okay, okay, Mama Kerry," I reply, trying to keep the heaviest of the sarcasm from my voice.

She glances around the room before saying, "You are a pain in the ass, Dana Scully, MD or not."

Chuckling at her habit of checking on Fawn's whereabouts before swearing -- a habit we've all picked up to keep from further funding the little shark's college fund -- I know better than to contradict our family doctor.

"And if it gets worse, I'll give you a call," Monica reassures her. "Believe me, I know the drill."

Smiling in satisfaction, Kerry takes the dirty cloth and heads back toward the kitchen again. I press a kiss to Monica's cheek and motion for her to head home. Once we're in the apartment, we work in tandem to undress William and further wipe down the rest of the sticky sweetness from his skin. While Monica gets him into the Thomas pajamas he loves so much, I make sure that his Thomas plushy is in the crib where he can easily reach it in the night and turn the baby monitor on. Monica sets him gently in the crib, fussing with his blanket, and I can't help but just stand there and watch him sleeping.

Finally, she squeezes my hand and leads me out of the bedroom, grabbing the portable monitor on the way out. Once in our bedroom, she settles me on the bed and starts the tub running before starting the tea brewing that Kerry had reminded her of. Back in the bedroom, she smiles and leans over to press a gentle kiss to my lips.

With slow deliberation, Monica removes each piece of my clothing, tossing them into the hamper before she peppers the worst of my skin with delicate kisses. Her lips feel soft and cool to the touch, and I can't help the sighs escaping my lips with each one. Once naked, I shiver only slightly as she goes to get the tea and add it to the bath water. When it's cool enough for her comfort, I let her lead me into our bathroom and settle into the tub. She keeps the pitcher and pours some of the diluted tea over my scalp.

"If this dyes my hair, I'm going to be pissed, Monica Reyes," I warn her, absolutely no hint of anger or reprisal in my voice.

"I know," is all she says, continuing to pour tea over my hair for another moment or two. Satisfied, she grabs a washcloth, soaks it in the tub for a moment before wringing it out and placing it over my face. "Just relax, baby, and let the tea help pull the worst of the sting out. I'm gonna go find the lavender essential oil and get everything ready to massage that into your skin when you're done in the tub. Just holler if you need anything, okay?"

I nod slowly, eyes closing under the towel, and sigh happily. The water feels incredible, and the tea's making me thirsty suddenly. "Hey, Mon? Can you make me some of the chamomile tea with honey?"

"You got it, baby. I'll have it ready for when you're out of the tub."

Looking forward to that treat before bed, I shift slightly to relax back into the water, mind wandering through a variety of topics as I let the tea do its job. Part of me tunes in to listen to what Monica's doing in the bedroom, but eventually even that fades into the background hum of my day to day life. I don't know how much times passes as I lay there in the tub, but I know I don't quite fall asleep either.

Eventually, Monica comes back into the bathroom and gently murmurs my name before touching my shoulder. She peels back the washcloth covering my face and smiles down at me. When I smile back, she reaches over to begin draining the tub before helping me to stand up.

"How you feeling, baby?"

"Pretty good, actually. I'll have to thank Kerry for reminding me about the tea thing. That was an incredible sensation." Monica chuckles softly, knowingly, and I stretch out a hand to slap at her shoulder lightly. "Oh shut up, smartass."

"Okay, when the water drains, go ahead and hop under the shower to quickly rinse off any extra tea. I've got everything ready for you in the bedroom, so come on in when you're ready, okay?"

Nodding, I turn the water on, squeaking slightly at the coolness of the water. Not bothering with any soap or shampoo, I let the water rinse off any remaining traces of the tea for a couple of moments. Toweling off is a little more of a chore than normal, and I delicately get my hair twisted up in the towel on top of my head. Thankfully, I don't feel nearly as warm as I did before, and the telltale tightness of sunburn has left my skin for the most part.

Padding into the bedroom, I watch Monica come back in with two cups of chamomile tea. Her broad, unfettered grin upon seeing me is such a beautiful sight. Setting the cups on the nightstand, she grabs my towel and gently blots a little more of the water from my skin before motioning to the bed. Still wrapped in my bath sheet, I settle on the edge of the bed and take a sip of my chamomile with a happy sigh.

"Comfy, Dana?"

At my nod, Monica picks up the bottle of lavender essential oil. She takes her time pouring the oil into her hands and gently spreading it over my face, neck, shoulders, arms and chest. Any spot that might have gotten the slightest bit too much sun is glistening with lavender oil by the time she's done, and I'm surrounded by a cloud of the heavenly scent.

"That smells so good," I finally say, taking another deep lungful of the fragrance. "Thank you, Monica."

"Don't thank me, baby. Kerry's the one that told me what to do."

"No, not that, thank you for doing it."

She leans in to press a light kiss to my lips. "Do you really think I wouldn't be helping out like this? You know I hate it when you or William get hurt in any way."

"I know. I feel the same way about the two of you."

"Besides," she adds with a smirk. "I just wanted the opportunity to spread oil all over your naked skin."

Laughter bubbles up from my diaphragm and I cup her cheek gently. "You are incorrigible, insatiable, and incredible, Monica Reyes. I hope I never have to live another day of my life without you in it."

"I hope I never have to do that same thing, _mi corazon_. _Te quiero_ , Dana."

" _Te quiero_ , Monica."

Sighing contentedly, I lean into her touch, craving the closeness. We sit there for a few minutes more, sipping at our tea, as the oil soaks itself into my skin. Finally, Monica reaches for a pair of panties and one of the old, worn, soft tank tops that we both adore sleeping in. Standing, I let the bath sheet fall to the floor before slipping into the comfortable clothing. Monica makes short order of the towels and comes back with my wide-toothed comb as I bend over to towel-dry my hair a little bit. She exchanges the comb for the towel and waits as I run it through my hair in an attempt to stave off any snarls, then returns both towel and comb to the bathroom.

As she comes back in, she grabs the baby monitor from my nightstand to set it on her own as we climb into bed. Yawning, I push my tea mug further back on the nightstand, ready for bed finally. Monica turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into relative darkness until our eyes adjust. It takes a little longer than normal to get comfortable on my side, but the minute I am settled, Monica eases behind me, body molding along the length of my own.

"Sweet dreams, baby," she whispers, lips brushing my shoulder.

"You, too," are the last words I say before succumbing to Morpheus' somnolent song.


	9. Beltane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Making love".
> 
> Content notes: female ejaculation

++ Monica ++ 

(05-01-06)

_Excerpt from the personal journal of Monica Reyes_

> _It's been nearly a week and a half since William was last able to have a proper play date with the other children. Between the cold he ended up getting and Dana's bad sunburn after our Earth Day planting extravaganza, none of us were in any kind of shape to see anyone else. I worried that Dana might get his cold, but thankfully she dodged that bullet. Now that he's feeling better and got a clean bill of health from both Joan and Kerry, Dana finally feels comfortable letting William spend some time with his friends. She refuses to admit that she's been going a little stir crazy stuck in this apartment with a sick and cranky boy; she tried to act like it was no big deal that he was finally able to get outside as of late yesterday afternoon. We all knew better, especially me._
> 
> _The call from Olivia this morning came as a welcome treat; she and Alex offered to take William for the day, giving us a welcomed mini-vacation. Once Olivia stopped by to pick up William on her way to her bungalow after her shift ended this morning, I transferred the gate phone to Kerry and Zo's place and headed back to bed. A nice, lazy nap ensued, and I was just about giddy at the sheer delight in laying there for hours, alternately sleeping and watching Dana sleep. Sheer bliss!_
> 
> _Hunger finally got us out of bed and I happily helped with the food prep; I was in charge of the tea and toast while Dana expertly made eggs and bacon for the two of us. I will admit to a certain pang of guilt at not sharing the bacon with William, but Dana must have read my mind and said she'd make more tomorrow so he wouldn't be totally left out of the bacony goodness. We settled on the couch to watch a movie together while we fed each other our nummy munchies. Dana didn't even object when I put in_ Desert Hearts _, which thrilled me to no end. I just don't get to watch that movie often enough, damn it!_
> 
> _Thankfully that movie ended up doing what I kind of hoped it would. Dana was polite enough to let me finish watching the movie, but she could barely keep her hands to herself. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It made for a great bit of fun once the DVD was turned off, vigorous enough that we had to take a nap afterward._

"Monica?" Dana's voice drifts out from the bedroom, cutting into my thoughts. "Are you coming back anytime soon? Or did you get abducted by aliens bringing back that core?"

Glancing down at the very item she's talking about, I guiltily close the OJ container and place it back in the refrigerator so I can head back toward the bedroom; I'm just thrilled at the ability to move about the apartment completely naked. I have a funny feeling I'm going to need the fortification before this day's over with. Stepping back into the bedroom, I stop in the doorway to just stare at the sight before me: Dana's stretched out on the bed, naked as I'd left her, and stroking her hands down her body. But it's the sight of the harness attached to her hips, various black straps crisscrossing her pale skin, which sends a jolt of desire through my body.

"I thought this was for you?" I finally ask, throat dry from the implications of how this afternoon is going to end up.

"It is," she replies matter-of-factly and gets up to her knees smoothly before making her way to the end of the bed. "I just felt like returning the favor today. That is okay, isn't it?"

There's the faintest hint of hesitation as she glances up at me from under those impossibly long eyelashes of hers. But it doesn't last long as she reaches for the frozen tube and deftly inserts it into the silicon sheath designated for me, then secures the whole thing into the harness. The image of my pale, redheaded lover harnessed into black nylon straps with a seven inch half-frozen dildo protruding out from between her legs is hotter than hell, and I want nothing more than to submit to whatever debauchery she wants to commit on me, with me, to me.

"Fine." I wince as my voice cracks dangerously in the middle of that simple word. Jeezus, Monica, horny much?

Dana chuckles and crooks a finger at me. When I'm close enough, she tugs me even closer with a hand wrapped around the back of my skull, lips fitting against mine as if they were two halves of a single whole. The head of the dildo jabs into my lower belly, and I can't help giggling at the sensation. This gives Dana the entry she's looking for, and her tongue slips into my mouth to slither sinuously against my own. My hands stroke down her arms and back up again before gliding down to cup her full breasts. Motherhood has certainly enhanced her décolletage and I love the new sensitivity her nipples have gotten since the pregnancy.

Thumbs flicking across her nipples elicit a series of moans that I greedily swallow as our tongues duel for domination in my mouth. The sharp tug of pain as her fingers close around a handful of my hair only serves to turn me on more, and my fingers pinch one of her nipples without my conscious thought. This is seriously only designed to incite further tugs on my hair until I'm practically a quivering mass of nerves in front of her.

"You're not playing fair, _amante_ ," she growls, pulling back to stare at me for a moment.

"Right back atcha, baby."

Her left hand lands sharply against my ass; I squeak in surprise and jump nearly a foot in the air. The delicious heat radiates out from what I'm sure is a reddening handprint on my right cheek, and a part of me wants her to do it again. As if reading my thoughts, Dana lets her hand fall against my skin again in the same spot, intensifying the sensations.

"You're being a cheeky thing, aren't you?" she purrs and leans in to nip at my lower lip. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you wanted me to take you over my knee and punish you."

"Oh god," I moan softly. Damn it, she really does want to play dirty today. I can feel the twitching need skip along my nerves to settle in the pit of my stomach.

"Is that how you ask for something?" That superior tone of voice is enough to nearly undo me every single time, and she damned well knows it, too.

"My apologies, Mistress," is my automatically murmured reply.

"That's much better." She releases my hair and runs her hand down my neck and chest to rest over my heart. "What do you want, love?"

"Yes?" I reply, unable to choose anything that she might think to offer me, and receive another sharp slap to my ass for my impertinence.

"Perhaps I shouldn't give you what you want," she ponders, as if talking to herself, as if I don't really exist. "Perhaps I should just make you stand there, dripping in your own need, while I lay back and fuck myself with this dildo. Get you all hot and bothered and unable to do a damned thing about it."

I bite down on my lower lip to keep from answering. Anything I'd say at this point will only push her to do just as she's described, and I really would prefer to get fucked today while we have the apartment to ourselves. She strokes her hands along my body, hitting every single hot spot I have, except the one place I really want her to touch. Dace taught her too damned well!

"That's a good girl, keeping quiet like that. I'm feeling in a magnanimous mood today, so I do believe I will give you what you want." She settles herself back on the bed, feet flat on the ground. "Across my lap, love," she says softly, patting her thigh. "You'll count them for me, won't you?"

If there's any hesitation on my part, it's minor and I practically trip over myself to stretch across her lap on the bed. The coolness of that dildo presses against my skin where it's trapped between her stomach and my left hip. I shiver slightly, unable to completely ignore the sensation for very long, and let my head fall into my upturned palms for support. Dana's fingers trail lightly down my spine, raising goose bumps in their wake, until she can stroke and fondle the curves of my ass.

I want to squirm in her lap, ease away from the cold dildo, arch up into her touch, grind myself into her lap. I hate it when she takes her time tormenting me, even though I know that's the point. Normally, I'm better prepared for a game like this, but right now I want nothing more than to have her wield that silicone cock as if it's an extension of her own body and fuck me senseless.

Dana's soft chuckle sends another bead of molten need oozing down my spine. "Such a beautiful girl," she murmurs, fingers teasing my skin. "It would be such a shame to--"

Her sentence doesn't get finished. Or rather, if it does, I don't notice it in the wake of the blossom of heat and pain radiating from my skin as her hand lands with a heavy slap against my ass. The sensation startles me, and yet I want more of it.

"One. Thank you, Mistress," I whisper, whimpering as she drags the tip of a fingernail across the sensitive skin. In less time than I would have hoped for, but more than I expect, a second slap's sound rings in my ears. "Two. Thank you, Mistress."

Dana sets up the rhythm quickly: a slap lands, I count and thank her, and she teases the obviously reddening skin -- lather, rinse, repeat until I am a quivering mass of need and fire. I don't even know just how many spanks I end up getting, but I know I keep up the count correctly, or she'd find some other sort of punishment for me.

Finally the spanking comes to a pause; I don't know for sure if Dana's actually done yet or just taking a break at this point. The sensation of those beloved, blunted fingernails scraping across my red, hot ass triggers the fiery fury of my nerves again, and I can feel the muscles in my pussy clenching in need. That she continues to trace multiples lines across my skin is maddening, particularly since I can't quite make out what she's saying to me; the blood is pounding in my ears, drowning out everything but the sensations flashing across my nerve endings.

The next thing I know, those nails are scraping up the length of my thighs, from knees to the curve where ass and leg meet. Half a dozen times she leaves sets of five stripes on each thigh; half a dozen times my entire body shudders in needy response, and I very nearly bite through my lower lip in my attempts to be silent. But when those fingers continue upward and inward on one pass to cup my hot pussy, I can no longer hold back the sounds.

"Oh god, Mistress, please," I whine, ready to beg as if my life depends on it.

Dana says nothing, but continues to gently move her palm against my skin for another couple of moments. Once or twice, the tip of her middle finger shifts just enough to slip between my lips and glide across my clit. I whimper at the brief contact, arching back into her touch. Dana clucks her tongue softly, continuing to gently stroke my skin, keeping me on edge even longer. The sharp crack of her palm connecting with my ass again startles me, particularly when she slips a finger of her other hand into my pussy.

"So wet and needy," she murmurs, finger moving in deeper before slowly pulling back out. She repeats this several more times. "You're practically soaked with your arousal, love."

Her hand lands sharply on my ass again, and a second finger joins the first in fucking me. I shudder at the sensation, wriggling on her lap, wanting more. Those two fingers slip out to glide up and trap my clit for the briefest of moments before returning again to the clenching heat of my pussy. Dear god, she's going to kill me before she lets me come, I just know it. And yet, I will do nothing to stop her from doing it either; I'll just suffer this dizzying balancing act on the razor's edge of orgasm.

She says something else, but I don't quite catch the words, so intent am I on the slow, teasing fucking. The sharp tug at my hair, pulling my head back from the cradle of my hands, brings me back to the present instantly, and I find myself apologizing without knowing exactly what I've done. Not that it matters anyway.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. It won't happen again."

She snorts softly, barely releasing her hold on my hair. "You say that now, but we both know it will happen again. You can't help that you're a greedy, wanton little thing, can you?"

"No, Mistress."

"That's right," she replies, releasing hair and pussy both. "On your feet, love."

It takes a moment, but I get to my feet shakily to stand in front of her, hands crossed and linked behind my back, legs splayed slightly for balance. I think she called this parade rest. She leans back on one hand to study me, the other hand lazily stroking the dildo still jutting out from her waist. When I realize she's stroking that dildo with the hand that so recently was coated with my arousal, I moan softly.

Dana chuckles darkly and pulls me closer, fingers once again slipping into my pussy as her thumb flicks against my clit. The sensations nearly make my knees buckle, and I want to cry out how much I want her to fuck me senseless, or just let me come this one time before she continues torturing me. The sound of her clearing her throat makes me look down at her. Her blue eyes have gone darker with lust and the promise of what's to come.

She stands suddenly and leans up on her toes to press a decadent kiss to my lips. "Get on the bed," she says as she pulls back, licking her own lips. "On your knees, ass in the air."

My brain misfires for a few seconds before my body scrambles into action to do as she's requested. I know this position well from when I've worn the harness, but Dana so rarely takes the lead in this kind of position. Once in position, I lay my head down on my crossed arms, eyes closing in anticipation, and wiggle my ass in invitation. The sharp slap that results is hardly a surprise, and only manages to increase my desire again. Dana's hand presses down on my lower back, and I immediately slide my knees further apart, lowering my ass in the process.

_Please, Mistress._ The words repeat over and over in my brain, taking on the traits of a mantra.

"When I'm good and ready," she replies with another slap to my ass.

It's only at this point that I realize my mantra has been more than internal thoughts. Damn! But before I can apologize, I feel the head of that dildo rubbing along the length of my pussy and clit a couple of times. Finally Dana takes some sort of pity on me and on the next thrust forward, the dildo presses slowly into me. The delicious tightness and fullness make me moan wantonly, and I arch my ass back toward her to get even more. Another spanking only makes me jerk away in shock, pulling the dildo out just a bit.

I force myself to take slow, even breaths as Dana takes her time filling me with that delightful cock of hers. Once fully seated within me, she pauses for a moment, and I swear I can still feel some of the cold held in that inner core, warring with the heat of my body. What a fucking fantastic feeling! But it's nothing compared to the sensation when Dana eases out the dildo just as slowly as she pressed it in.

When only the head is still in me, she snaps her own hips and I am filled again. She doesn't hesitate nearly as long this time before pulling out again. Gradually speeding up with each thrust, she begins to stroke my body again to add to the sensation overload. One hand grips my hip, while the other moves from hip to thigh to ass to back. On one of her forward thrusts, she stills her body and leans over to pinch one of my nipples.

"Like that?" she asks huskily when I yelp at the touch.

"Oh god yes, Mistress!"

"Good."

She stretches her other hand forward and gives the same treatment to the other nipple before leaning back to pick up her thrusting rhythm again. She suddenly grips my hips tightly and starts to thrust harder, faster, filling me over and over again. I can feel the initial tremors of my orgasm starting to lick their way down my spine to spread out to every nerve in my body. I force myself up on my elbows for leverage to push back and meet her, thrust for thrust.

Dana's grip on my hips is tight enough that I wonder if I'll have bruises later on. I'll certainly wear them with pride. Dana shifts behind me slightly and presses down on my hips to spread my legs a little wider. The change in angle shifts the dildo, pressing more heavily against my G-spot. This changes everything, and the tremors grow in strength and intensity.

"Ohmygod! Dana, don't stop," I moan repeatedly, only dimly aware that I've stopped calling her Mistress at this point.

She continues fucking me without compunction, each thrust and retreat dragging the head of that dildo across my G-spot until I can't even see the darkness behind my tightly closed eyelids. Shifting her stance slightly once again, one of Dana's hands slides around my hip until her fingers glide across my clit. The jolt of sensation exploding out of my clit at that slight touch has me bucking against her roughly, but she doesn't stop anything she's doing.

"Come for me, love," she growls, fingers trapping my clit, and it feels like she's grinding that impossibly hard dildo against my G-spot.

In the space between one breath and the next, my entire world goes white and soundless. I once grabbed a live wire while helping a friend do some remodeling in his house. The sensation of that electricity shooting through me for those couple of seconds pales in comparison to what is ripping across my nerves right now. This must be what the Big Bang felt like: this complete absence and fulfillment of all sensation at one time, centered on one point in the universe.

And then, nothing…

The next thing I remember, I am curled up in a ball on the bed, shivering and in some sort of sensory overload. Sounds are too bright, sights are too strong, and anything touching my skin is just too damned loud. Eventually, the low buzzing I hear coalesces into Dana's soft voice murmuring my name repeatedly.

"Oh god," I groan, trying to open my eyes, but quickly closing them again.

"Welcome back, _amante_ ," she says with a grin. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I ate electricity and it spit me back out." Dana's gentle chuckle both irritates and soothes my frazzled nerves, and I reach out for her hand. "What happened?"

"Apparently, I made took you to Nirvana and out the other side of the universe," she replies, a certain smugness filling her voice. "And um, you have a new trick now."

"What?"

"You, um, soaked me and the towels we were smart enough to put out on the bed."

Forehead wrinkling in confusion, I stare up at her. "I lost control of my bladder?"

"No, Mon," is her slow, amused reply. "It would seem that me fucking you like that, the angle we were both at, triggered you to… _squirt_. A lot."

The heat of my blush is strong. "Oh."

"Yeah." She pauses for a moment, squeezing my hand gently. "It was kind of hot to see you lose complete control like that, and feel your orgasm roll through your body. I didn't even notice the ejaculation thing until you fell forward on the bed after I pulled out. I just stood there and stared."

I can feel my nerves still throbbing between my legs, but I am in awe of my body and its reactions. "Wow! I know that the way you were fucking me was totally stimulating my G-spot like you never have before." Glancing up at her, I lick my lips slowly. "I want you to do it again sometime, please?"

"Like I can say no to you."


	10. Mother's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Family celebration".

++ Dana ++

(05-14-06)

The aroma of orange rolls wafts into the bedroom, pulling me from a deep sleep. Rolling over onto my back, I stretch out languidly and enjoy the push and pull of my muscles elongating and contracting. Part of me wants to roll back over and fall into the lovely dream I was having. Part of me knows that they'd allow me that opportunity if I really want it, but I've slept in far later than normal as it is. More importantly, I also know that they're out in the kitchen, planning some sort of lovely surprise for me today. Not that I don't appreciate what they're doing, but I don't know that it's necessary. A soft knock at the door pulls my attention from my speculations. For a moment, I consider not answering, letting them think I'm still asleep, just to see what they'll do

"Come in," I call out, shifting back to sit up more against the headboard.

The door rattles a little before the knob turns and it's pushed open into the room. A small head of brassy strawberry blonde hair sticking out in all directions peers around the door. The blue eyes that so closely match mine come into view next and I smile broadly.

"Mama up?"

"Yes, handsome, Mama's up," I reply warmly, laughing as he hesitates only briefly, until Monica urges him in, before running to climb on the bed and crawl up to me. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, I wrap my arms around my son, holding him close enough to feel his little heart beating against my own chest. We snuggle together for a moment or two in companionable silence, and I'm struck once again by the depths of my love for this little boy. "Have you been a good boy for your _Mami_ this morning?" I finally ask.

"Made food. Mama hun'ry?"

The scent of the orange rolls is stronger now, mingling with the unmistakable bouquet of roses, and I can also detect the heady aroma of coffee in the blend. My stomach grumbles in response, and I blush at the reaction. Monica's delighted laughter filters over from the doorway, where she stands with the breakfast tray in her hands. As she moves closer, I begin to inspect the tray's contents: cup of coffee, glass of cranberry juice, a large orange roll, bacon and eggs, and a vase with one white and one red rose each.

"Mama is very hungry," is my ready admission.

William shifts to sit next to me as Monica sets the tray across my lap. I am not surprised by the fact that there's more food than I can possibly eat on the tray. I have no issues sharing with my family. When Monica doesn't immediately join us on the bed, I glance up at her curiously. She smiles and leans over to offer me a heady good morning kiss before finally settling on the bed on William's other side.

William decides that he's done with patiently waiting for me to eat and picks up a piece of bacon. "Mama's bac'n," he says proudly as he hands it to me.

I dutifully take a bite, surprised that Monica was able to cook it exactly the way I like it. Normally her attempts end up on the more done and crisply end of the spectrum, like she and William like it. Narrowing my eyes at her, I chew slowly and swallow before speaking. "Who did you get to cook the bacon, Mon?"

She chuckles and shakes her head. "Nobody. _Mi hijo_ and I did it all ourselves. We didn't even make any of it the way we like it either. Today is all about you, Mama, so eat up. We have plans for you."

William's giggle is muffled by his little hands over his mouth, but his delight is still infectious and I end up laughing with him. The three of us eat our way through the food on the tray until the only thing left is the half-full cup of coffee and a few drips of the icing from the orange roll. Rubbing my stomach happily, I smile at my dearest loves.

"That was an excellent breakfast. Thank you both for that. So let's go get the dishes done, so we can do whatever it is you have planned today." I start to get out of the bed, but William grabs my arm to stop me. "What's up, handsome?"

"No dishes, Mama. Pea'sants! Right, _Mami_?"

Once again I narrow my eyes at Monica. I really hate it when she resorts to spoiling me with things. I don't want things; I want the two of them and the memories of our life together. She shrugs sheepishly, sets the roses on my nightstand, and offers me my coffee before taking the tray back to the kitchen. I sit there for several moments, cuddling with William and sipping at my coffee, before Monica comes back in. Oh, I know she's getting the dishes in the dishwasher and doing a last minute clean up of the kitchen before she returns with these mysterious presents that she and William have gotten for me.

"Do you know what today is, William?" I ask curiously. "Or why _Mami_ is making such a big deal of it?"

" _Mami_ said is Mama's Day."

"That's right. This is the day that good girls and boys honor their mamas for taking care of them all year long."

" _S'pos_ , Mama," he says, wrapping his arms around my neck in a tight hug. I'm still amused that this boy knows more languages already -- or parts of them -- than I do, and he's not quite two years old yet.

"I love you, too, my handsome boy."

I lean in to brush the tip of my nose against his, delighted in his unfettered enjoyment of such a simple little expression of love. My heart clenches in my chest at the thought of anything ever happening to this miracle baby of mine. He means so damned much to me, and I don't ever want to lose him.

Finally Monica wanders back in with a medium sized box in her hands. Returning to her place on William's other side, she offers me the box. The first thing that catches my eye is the large envelope with "Mama" scrawled almost illegibly on the front in orange crayon. Smiling, I open the envelope to find a homemade card with a picture of the three of us the day William was born, surrounded by the words "Happy Third Mother's Day!" Scowling slightly at Monica's weird insistence that my first Mother's Day was while I was still heavily pregnant with William, I open the card to see a series of bright scribbles on the left side of the card. On the right side, however, is Monica's distinctive angular handwriting.

> _Happy Mother's Day, Dana._
> 
> _I know that you think I'm crazy to count the year you were pregnant with William as your first Mother's Day, but I do. You became a mother the minute William was conceived, if not the minute you agreed to get pregnant with him. You have done something that is beautiful and wonderful, and I am constantly thankful for the sacrifices you made during your pregnancy to bring us this beautiful little boy._
> 
> _You are an incredible mother, and I learn something new from you and your interactions with William every single day. If we should ever have another child, I hope that child will feel just as loved and adored as William is._
> 
> _I love you more and more with every passing day, Dana._
> 
> _Yours always,  
>  Monica and William_
> 
> _05-14-2006_

Blinking back tears at the words she's written, I lean over to pull Monica into a tight embrace and whisper, "I love you, too." When William squirms between us, I pull back enough to include him in a group hug and kiss the top of his head. "I love you, too, William."

"I meant every word of it," Monica finally replies, her voice strangely husky. She clears her throat and pulls back to motion to the box. "Go ahead and open it."

Offering her a watery smile, I do just that. The paper is covered in William's handprints and footprints in all of my favorite colors. "Am I going to find paint on your little fingers and toes, handsome?" I ask, tickling at his side until he giggles and shakes his head.

"No, Mama! All clean."

"Good boy."

Feeling oddly sentimental, I carefully unwrap the box and set the paper aside to put into the scrapbook we started for William. Lifting the lid off the box, I find all sorts of little things inside, including pictures colored or finger-painted by William, and a small box made of popsicle sticks that I have a sneaking suspicion I saw him working on with Alexis and Tory a few days ago. The item that tugs most at my heart is the photo cube, filled with images of William and Monica, to put on my desk. There are even pictures of William and me in there that I never knew were taken. Hugging them both tightly, I don't bother to hide the tears now, and I thank them profusely. I continue to hold them, unable to let them go just yet.

"There are two more things in there, _mi corazon_."

Curious, I lean back and look in the box again. Under a bit of the tissue paper, I find a small jewelry box. "Monica…"

"Just open it."

Doing as she's requested, I flip back the top of the box to see a small sterling silver charm of a train engine. Chuckling, I press a kiss to William's cheek. "Another charm for Mama's necklace? Did _Mami_ tell you about this?"

"I buyed it."

"You did? Thank you, William. That was very sweet of you," I say, looking curiously at Monica.

"I took him shopping with me, and we stopped in the jewelry store so I could see if there was a nice charm to add to your necklace. I was leaning toward a rose, even though nothing really jumped out at me, and suddenly William just started going crazy and trying to leap out of my arms right there at the counter. Turns out, he spotted the charm and wanted to make sure I saw it. So we snatched it up immediately and he's been nearly beside himself with the secret for the last four days now."

"Is that true?" I ask, lifting William up into my lap. "Did you find the little Thomas for Mama? And keep it a secret for four whole days?" When he nods proudly, I nuzzle him closer. "You were a very good boy, sweetheart, and a big boy, too. Mama is so proud of you."

I reach up to take the necklace off, handing it to Monica so she can add the new charm, and reach for the envelope still in the box. Upon opening it, I see a redeemable coupon for a day for two at an exclusive new spa that opened up at the Bellagio, all expenses paid. Pursing my lips to combat the tears, I glare at Monica.

"Before you say anything, this was an agreement made with Anastasia," Monica explains. "I'd mentioned that I wanted to get you a day at a spa, but couldn't find any places that really seemed nice enough and not too touristy. She immediately told me about this new place coming in and that she'd been given a pair of comp tickets to try out the facilities with the hopes that the House of Hearts would enter into a contract with the spa. Neither she nor Tessa really wanted to try this one, as they have their favorite places, so she asked me if this would help me with my decision. She said she'll take our recommendation without hesitation as to whether she'll negotiate that contract or not."

"That's too much responsibility for us, Monica!"

She grins and strokes my cheek. "Yeah, I told Anastasia you'd say that, too. She said that she wanted the opinion of someone who doesn't normally do this kind of thing, because she and Tessa are really hyper critical of places like this. And she's right. We don't do this kind of thing all that often, and I really wanted something nice for you for Mother's Day."

"This certainly fits the bill," I reply, clearing my throat partway through when my voice cracks. "Thank you, _amante_. This was wonderful."

"You're welcome. It was the least I could do for the mother of our son."

" _Mami_? Park?"

"Shh!" she lightly admonishes him, grinning the whole time. "That was gonna be a secret for a little longer, Billy-Bear!"

William's eyes widen for a moment before he dissolves into giggles as Monica tickles him. "I sorry, _Mami_."

"The park, you say?" I ask, stroking his hair gently. "Are we going to ride on the swings and the merry-go-round?"

"Oh yes!"

"Then we better get dressed and ready to go, hunh?"

William presses a sloppy kiss to my cheek, then dashes off toward his bedroom. I start to get up to follow him, but Monica stops him. "You take your time getting dressed, baby. I've got William."

"You're spoiling me, Monica Reyes."

"I know. Happy Mother's Day, Dana."


	11. William's Second Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Kidfic - birthday".

++ Monica ++

(06-07-06)

"What are we going to do when he's old enough to actually remember these parties?" Dana asks softly, leaning closer into my body.

"No idea," I whisper back. "But I’m more worried about what we're going to do with all these Thomas toys. There's got to be fifteen different toys here at least!"

Dana chuckles ruefully, as if just realizing the implications of what I'm saying. Thankfully, the rest of the adults were quite judicious in what kind of toys they got for William. And given that he's the youngest of six boys here at the Ranch, these adults have a good grasp on what toys are appropriate for him. Anastasia and Tessa spoiled him with clothing and a fantastic little ice cream cake of his very own, which is currently being smeared across his face and chest. Hopefully most of it is making it into his mouth. I'm quite sure it's a gourmet cake, too; Anastasia is not the kind of person to frequent a place like Dairy Queen or Baskin Robbins.

Darya wanders past us, holding a limp Wynnie in her arms. The little girl has been going through a growth spurt that has been wearing her out easily of late. Of course, all of the games with the other children have more than contributed to her exhaustion, too. Darya settles next to us at the table, shifting Wynnie against her chest more comfortably.

"This was a wonderful party," she replies with a tired grin. "Want to plan the party for Trisha and Dobby, too?"

"Um, maybe not?" Dana is quick with her less than positive response, smirking broadly. "How on earth do you do it with four kids under the age of ten, Dare? William alone is sometimes more than I can handle."

Darya shrugs and smiles, eyes going distant for a moment with some memory or other. When she blinks and blushes, we offer knowing chuckles. "We just do, I guess. Then again, we really have eight under foot. Emily and Cubby are fantastic at helping take care of their younger siblings. Fawn does what she can, but she still prefers playing baby doll with Wynnie more than anything else." She pauses, glancing down at her sleeping daughter. "I'm not sure I could deal with just one anymore. When it was just Emily in the beginning, she was my everything. And she still is, don't get me wrong, but each of my children are so special to me. I wouldn't give up a single minute of any of it."

Dana's smile is just the slightest bit hesitant, but I don't think Darya notices it, being so focused on her youngest child. I lace my fingers with Dana's and squeeze lightly. I've been vaguely toying with the idea of approaching Dana about another child. I don't care which of us carries the new baby, though I certainly wouldn't mind doing it myself. And yet, because of that hesitation on Dana's part, I'm reticent to bring it up to her. And I certainly shouldn't be doing so on William's birthday.

" _Mami_! Mama! Cake!"

William's happy little voice cuts into my thoughts as easily as a hot knife through butter, and I set thoughts of more children aside once again. Dana starts to get up, but I squeeze her hand again. "I've got it, _mi corazon_ ," I reply, getting to my feet, and nod at Dare before walking over to the high chair in the middle of a large tarp. He's only been a few feet away from us this whole time, and Kat has been keeping him company while he tries to eat his cake by osmosis. " _Hola, mi hijo_ ," I say around a laugh at the sight of chocolate ice cream and bits of cake in his hair. "Mama isn't going to be able to find you under all that cake and ice cream."

"Some?" He thrusts a drippy brown hand toward me, and I dutifully lean in to take a bite of mushy cake and frosting.

"Mmm, that's yummy! May I have another bite?"

When he nods, I take a second bite and trap his little index finger between my lips, licking it clean until he giggles in delight and squirms in his chair. The moment I release his finger, he grabs for another handful of the gooey mess that's pretty damned tasty. I'm kind of jealous that he got this awesome cake all to himself. Maybe I can snag the leftovers; if there are any leftovers, that is. William's done a pretty good job of decimating the tasty treat as it is.

"Milk!" he says suddenly, turning to face Kat.

"What do you say, William?" she asks patiently, holding the cup just out of his reach. He grabs for the cup and pouts when he doesn't get it. "No, you know what to say to get your milk." After a moment, he finally signs the word please, smearing more of his cake into his clothes. "That's a good boy," she replies, holding the cup and straw closer for him to get a drink. When he's had his fill, he signs thank you and goes back to eating his melting cake and ice cream sludge.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on him, Kat."

"Anytime, Monica," she replies with a grin, then leans in with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes to whisper, "I kind of like being the official birthday kid herder around here. Just don't tell anyone that, okay?"

Chuckling myself, because we both know the truth that everyone knows she likes it, I nod and hold my hand up as if swearing an oath. "It'll be our little secret." Turning to face my son again, I just shake my head at the mess he's made of himself. "I think you are wearing more cake this year than you were last year, _mi hijo_. We're going to need a sandblaster to get the cake out of your hair."

"No, I think it'll require the clippers," Kat says in a deadly serious tone.

Whirling to face her again, I stare into those eyes, searching for the tiniest twinkle. "Don't you dare say that! Dana will have your hide if you think you'll be able to cut his hair yet."

"Who's going to be cutting my son's beautiful red hair?"

I stiffen at the sound of my beloved partner's voice coming from behind me. How in the hell does she sneak up on me like that? "Hey, baby," I say, turning to face her. "We were just--"

"Talking about cutting my son's hair to get it clean? Yes, I heard you. You're both on my list for that, you know." She pauses, leaning over to press a kiss to the only clean spot on William's forehead, and offers him a bright smile. "How's my birthday boy? Is that good cake?"

I get lost in watching the two of them chattering about the cake and the presents. I could do this for hours, days, and never get tired of it. There's a light in Dana's eyes; it's like she's almost glowing with the love and pride she feels for our son. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life, and I don't ever want it to end.

+++++

"Mon? Do you want to get the presents or the sticky, dead weight of your son?"

Glancing back and forth between the bin of presents and the boy passed out in his high chair, I grin at Dana. "How about you go start his bath and I'll bring the birthday boy, then I'll come back for the presents while you're hosing him down?"

Dana grins broadly at that and nods. "Sounds like a plan," she says and heads off into our apartment.

I take my time in getting William out of the high chair, doing my best not to wake him up. The bulk of the party guests have already headed home to deal with their own over-stimulated children. Kat, Zo, and Kerry are working in a very concerted tandem to clean up the Great Room. I must say that Kat has certainly grown into an incredible young woman in the three and a half years I've known her.

Finally undoing the last strap holding him in, I lift William into my arms and immediately regret the movement as sticky, gluey clothes and skin press into my own. "Definitely gonna need a shower tonight," I mutter, shifting William into a better position, and head into the apartment. A soft little sound, somewhere between a sigh and a snore, emits from the head resting on my shoulder, and it takes everything in me not to laugh and potentially wake him up.

Dana's already got the tub filled and waiting for William when I step into the bathroom. She scoops him up into her arms and sets him on one folded towel on the counter, stripping off his clothes and pull-ups with practiced ease. I fall under the spell of her movements for a moment before she glances up at me with a knowing smirk.

"Don't you have a bin of presents to bring home?" she teases lightly.

Sticking my tongue out at her, I head back out of the apartment and into the Great Room again. The room is pretty quiet, but I can hear Grace Jones playing in the kitchen. Moving around the room to make sure that everything's picked up, I'm still impressed by how quickly the clean up went. Then again, with fifteen children under the age of thirteen, we've all had a lot of practice at these parties. Spotting a fork on the floor in a corner, I scoop it up and head into the kitchen.

"Hey, Kerry, I found--"

The words die in my throat when I register the sight before me. Kerry is sitting on the counter with her shirt unbuttoned and hanging open, Zo standing impossibly close between her legs. And I really didn't need to know just how far back Kerry's back can bend in that position. Thankfully, they have the good grace to look embarrassed, though Kerry doesn't really do anything to cover herself up.

Raising the fork, I set it on the counter space directly in front of me. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to bring in this fork and make sure it wasn't forgotten. I'll just get the presents and leave you two alone now."

I turn around and flee the room before either of them can say anything. I stub my toe on the doorjamb to our apartment, but I don't care. The bin of presents gets dropped by the couch, and I pause for just a moment to determine where Dana and William are. The soft sounds of her voice coming from the bathroom are like a siren's song to me, and I am unable to resist the urge to follow. I lean against the doorframe, watching as Dana gently rinses the soap from William's hair with a cup.

"I don't know how you do it, son of mine," she says softly, "but this icing is just not coming out. I don't want to have to cut your hair, sweetheart, but I may not have a choice in the matter."

"Will an extra pair of hands help?"

Dana turns at my question and smiles her thanks. Moving to kneel next to her, I take over holding our son in place while she starts another round of shampooing his hair. I am struck by the domesticity of this whole scene, and I thank God again for bringing Dana into my life.

"Do you know there was cake smashed in between the cheeks of his cute little butt?"

I snort in startled amusement. "How in the hell…? No, I don't think I want to know how he did that. Do I?"

Dana shakes her head and continues to wash the sweet concoction out of William's hair and skin. I'm not sure how much time passes as we work in tandem to get him clean, but he feels even heavier when I move to pull him out of the tub and wrap him in a warm towel. Dana runs to get clean pajamas and a new pull-up while I dry him off. When she comes back in, she takes up the position I'd had when I first came into the bathroom.

"You look so gorgeous right now," she says softly. "There is something about you taking care of William that just tugs at me. Is this what it's like when you watch me with him?"

Accepting the clothes she hands me, I nod slowly and start to dress our son. "Pretty much. There's something about a mother and her child that just… I don't know how to explain it, Dana. But yeah, I'm guessing it's something similar to what you're feeling."

She grins and lets the water out of the tub as I finish getting William dressed. She leans over to wrap the towel on the counter around his dirty clothes. "It's a good thing Anastasia and Tessa bought William so many new clothes. I think these may well be a lost cause."

"Considering how long it took you to get the cake out of his hair?" I ask with a chuckle. "Yeah, I'd say the clothes are history."

Standing carefully, I shift William again and head into his bedroom. It takes only a moment or two to get him settled in his bed, Thomas lying nearby in case he wakes up in the night. Dana grabs the monitor to take with us, but neither of us is willing to leave just yet. We've both been guilty of spending hours watching William sleep. Dana was the worst about it just after he was born. She'd hold him in her arms for hours at a time, just touching him and watching him sleep. It was beautiful.

"So when are you going to tell me what's been on your mind all day, Mon?" Her soft voice breaks into my thoughts. "Or are you planning to make me work for it?"

I turn to face her for a moment. "It's… It's not nothing, but I'm not sure this is the right time. It's still William's birthday and we should focus on that, even if he's dead to the world right now."

Dana studies me for a long moment, those narrowed blue eyes holding my gaze like a hawk. "Okay," she finally says. "But you know you can talk to me about anything, right? We're in this together, for as long as we don't kill each other, right?"

"Right," I agree and pull her in for a kiss. We can deal with this later on.


	12. Father's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Wild card - Memories - scrapbook/photo album".

++ Dana ++

(06-18-06)

"Hey, baby," Monica's voice comes sleepily from the bedroom door. "It's pretty late. Are you coming to bed?"

Shaking my head, I continue placing and removing pictures on the pages. Nothing is turning out right, nothing looks good at all, and to say I'm getting frustrated is a gross understatement. Pulling all of the pictures off the page again, I fight back a growl. "Why are you being so damned difficult?"

"Are you still looking through those pictures your brother sent you?" Monica asks, pulling out the chair next to me as she sits down.

"They're not going together like I wanted them to," is my complaint. Even I can hear the exhaustion and tears threatening to explode in my voice. Sighing, I drop my head into my hands in defeat. "I just want to get one damned page to look right. Is that so much to ask for?"

She rests a hand on my shoulder for a moment before easing it over to curl around the back of my neck. Those long, strong fingers begin to gently massage at the base of my skull. Almost immediately, a sense of lassitude steals over me, and my head feels heavier in my palms.

"Not too much to ask at all," she says softly, not letting up on her impromptu massage. "But, Dana, it's after midnight and you look totally worn out. You really should get some sleep. Who knows? Maybe once you've gotten a little shuteye, you'll have a whole new perspective on how this should look."

"But tomor -- today is Father's Day. I wanted this done for William for today." Do I seriously sound that damned petulant right now? This must be the voice that my mother always hated coming out of my mouth when I was younger.

"Why?"

Snapping up to stare at her, my eyes narrow. "What do you mean 'why'?"

"I mean, why does it need to be done today? Just because it's Father's Day? Or is there some other reason?"

"Because…" I pause for a moment, considering her question. Images of my father race through my mind, all trying to take center stage, but none lasting long enough to do more than offer a quick glimpse at a single memory within a lifetime of them. "…because I want William to know his grandfather, even if he's never going to be able to meet him."

"And that can only happen on Father's Day?"

Her voice is still soft and gentle, slightly riddled with sleepiness, and she returns to massaging the base of my skull and neck again. The sensation is beginning to do its job as exhaustion floods my system. Without thought, I shift to lean closer to her, head unerringly finding her shoulder. Her lips press against my temple, and I can feel tears stinging behind my closed eyelids.

"No, but…"

"But nothing, baby; you have a whole lifetime to help William get to know his grandfather. And there are other people that can help you with that, right? I bet your mother and your brothers and sister would love to share stories with William."

"I know, but…"

"But you want to do it yourself, right?" I scowl at her pointed question, but nod anyway. "And I'm sure that he'll love seeing the pictures and hearing the stories, but he's only two years old, and barely that. How much do you think he's going to remember from today in another year?" She leans back to tilt my chin up until I meet her gaze. "I'm not saying that you shouldn’t tell him about his grandfather as much as you possibly can. That would just be stupid. But I am saying that you have time to get this scrapbook done for him. Memories are not a onetime thing, baby, and you know that as well as I do. So why don't we go to bed, get some sleep, and start in on this again later in the morning?"

"I suppose you're right," I finally concede.

"Besides, it's your turn to get up with William, and I'll be damned if you're going to use this scrapbook as an excuse to get out of it." The twinkle of amusement in her eyes, combined with the corner of her mouth twitching as she fights a knowing smirk, is enough to make me chuckle softly.

"You're a pain in my ass, Monica Reyes." I lean in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "But I love you anyway."

+++++

"Hey, Mom, it's Dana."

"Dana, dear, how are you doing? And how are my grandson and Monica doing?"

Just the sound of her voice wraps me in instant comfort, and I wish she was here today. "We're doing just fine. Listen, I was thinking this morning and I had a question for you. Um, Bill sent me some pictures of Dad last week, said he found them going through an old box of mine that got mixed up in his stuff. I was thinking of making a scrapbook for William, and I need some help."

The conversation continues as I lay out my plans for the scrapbook. By the end of the call, not only has my mother agreed to help me with the project, but it's suddenly expanded to be a gift for all of her grandchildren. I'm not quite sure how I got roped into being the project manager, so to speak, other than it was my project idea to start with, but I'm thrilled with the idea nonetheless. We make plans for another call later in the week to discuss further plans, and hopefully they'll include a trip to Vegas for my family. It's not like they couldn't all use a vacation anyway.

Happily humming to myself, I set my cell phone aside and look at the notepad filled with scribbles and sketches based on our phone call. This could really work out nicely, and it'll be a fantastic tribute to my dad.

"Did your call end already?" Monica asks, coming out of the bathroom with a towel-clad William in her arms.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Mom had made plans for lunch with Charlie and his new girlfriend, so she had to go. But she said to send her love to you and William, and promised that she'll make sure she has time to say hello when we talk later this week."

"So the call was a good one?" she asks, dropping onto the couch to start drying William off a little more.

Smiling broadly, I move to join them on the couch and offer both of them a light kiss. "Definitely; Mom ended up talking me into expanding my scrapbook idea for all of her grandkids. A full Scully family tree kind of thing. That way, all of the grandkids get the same stories and pictures, and nothing hopefully gets left out from the family history."

Monica chuckles knowingly and winks at me. "See? I told you that some sleep would let you tackle your problems in a fresh new way that would be more beneficial. I don't know why you don't trust me more often when I tell you these things."

"Oh shush, you!" I retort, poking her cheek lightly. "Or you don't get to have any ice cream with me and William."

"Ice cream?" he asks, squirming to get to me.

"Clothes first, Billy Bear," Monica says, tightening her hold on him slightly. "Then again, maybe we shouldn't put clothes on him. He's just going to get them all dirty and need another bath."

"You just don't want to do laundry."

"There is that," she admits with a grin.

Working in tandem, we get William dressed quickly and stand up to head toward the Great Room and the main kitchen. Opening the door, I'm not surprised at all to see everyone gathered for lunch. Obviously, Kerry decided that she'd cook for the whole great clan of us yet again. William whines a bit that he has to eat real food before his ice cream, but stops that as soon as he sees the macaroni that he adores more than anything in the world. Besides ice cream, of course.

If I didn't know any better, I'd think that Kerry was spoiling my son rotten with his favorite foods. But I do know better, because she does it with all of the kids, and none of them have any idea just how nutritious their favorite foods really are. In the end, does it really matter if they know or not? She can get them to eat just about anything, and that includes several of the adults living at the Ranch.

+++++

"That was fun," I admit as we step back into the apartment, following Monica into William's bedroom so she can put him down for a nap. He always wears himself out the hardest when the rest of his extended family of siblings is around to play with him, particularly Jimmy and Michel. "I keep forgetting just how tiring all of those children can be when they're wound up and hyper."

Monica chuckles and gets William settled relatively easily. Pocketing the monitor, she reaches for my hand and leads me back into the main room. Stopping at the table, she waits until I sit down before going to grab two glasses and a bottle of merlot from the wine cooler. She opens the bottle with practiced ease, and I can't help but stare at her hands as she goes through the steps of uncorking and pouring the wine for us.

"You're staring, babe," she teases softly, setting one glass in front of me.

I can feel the blush heating my cheeks just the slightest bit. "I can't help myself. I love watching you do anything and everything. You know that."

Broad smile lighting up her face, Monica leans over to trace my cheek with a fingertip. "I do know it, very well in fact, but I also happen to love hearing you say it." She leans in closer, lips following the same path her finger had just taken, ending with a tender kiss that tastes of mocha ice cream and Monica. "So…"

"So?"

"I have a question for you," she says, straightening in her chair and reaching for a picture of my family when I was thirteen years old. "I know you wanted to name William after your father, but why didn't you make him William Scully III?"

Tracing the image of my dad's face, I shake my head. "That was Bill's job to continue the name, which he finally did when he and Tara had Billy five years ago. And before you ask it, I wouldn't have made William a fourth either. That's not my option. Besides, I like to think that Ahab would have liked Gabe and would approve of William's name."

"Ahab?" she asks and takes a sip of her wine.

"Yes, Ahab. I've told you this before, Mon, or have you forgotten? I called Dad Ahab and he called me Starbuck."

"Like the character from _Battlestar Galactica_? The hotshot, womanizing pilot?"

"No, smartass!" I reply, slapping at her shoulder when she laughs. "Like the character from _Moby Dick_. Like my favorite book when I was growing up. Did you not read any of the classics?"

"They bored me."

Sighing, I drink my own wine and study the picture again. "You're so much like Melissa, it's scary."

"Maybe that's why your family likes me so much," she offers, attempting -- and failing -- to offer an innocent smile.

"You hang around Dace far too much for your own good, Monica."

Monica just grins and picks up another picture. "Tell me about this picture. Dana."

Taking a glance at it, I smile at the memory. "This one is of me and my father with that stupid bb gun that Bill and Charlie got me for my birthday. They thought they were being smart to buy it for me, because they didn't think I'd ever use it, and just let them have it. But I proved them wrong. Ahab taught us all how to shoot, but the boys were being boys and disobeyed his rules. He tanned their hides but good, and then he took me out for some extra lessons. It was one of the best days in my life, just me and Ahab shooting at targets and soda cans. We kept pretending the targets were that great white whale. I never missed a single shot."

Pride suffuses me at the memory, and I can almost hear him praising me for my marksmanship. Damn, but I miss him.

"It sounds like it was a great memory," Monica says gently, breaking into my thoughts. "You should tell William about that when we buy him his first bb gun."

Smiling broadly at Monica, I nod. "I think that's a great idea, Mon. Thank you."


	13. Leap Second Time Adjustment Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Playing matchmaker".

++ Monica ++

(06-30-06)

"Well, that could have gone better," Dana mutters, sighing at the sludge they call coffee at the nurse's station. "God, I want some real coffee."

"You need more coffee like you need a hole in the head, baby," I reply softly, squeezing her arm. "And if Kerry sees you with that coffee right now, she'll have your butt in a sling."

Staring at the cup for a long moment as if it might actually move or something, Dana finally tosses it into the trash with another sigh. "I hate it when you're right."

"No, you're just afraid of Kerry and her crutch," I tease lightly, laughing when she sticks her tongue out at me. "Come on, I'll buy you a sandwich and some juice down in the cafeteria. We need to look at this information a little more closely anyway."

She nods and leads the way down to the cafeteria in silence, a copy of DiNozzo's medical file open in her hands. I'll never understand just how easily she can study that file and maneuver herself through the busy corridors of the hospital, even at this ungodly late hour of the night. Thankfully, the cafeteria has a quiet and clean table in the corner, which Dana quickly commandeers as I round up respectably healthy food for the two of us. Salads, chicken salad sandwiches, and fruit are the best thing for us right now. None of it is too heavy on our stomachs, and the fruit and OJ will definitely help to keep us more alert at this point. It's not like we can leave and go home, not with Ziva here Guide-less.

"Salad and a sandwich? Are you trying to get into heaven or something?" Dana teases, grabbing for a banana on the tray before I can set it down. "Or just keeping Kerry at bay?"

"Very funny," I toss back at her. "Just for that, you don't get any of the chocolate milk I found."

She makes grabby hands at the carton, but I simply smile and open the carton before tilting my head back to drain it empty in a couple of long gulps. The shocked pout on her face is priceless when I come up for air again, and I can't help snickering in response as I toss the other carton at her.

"You're a bitch sometimes, Reyes, you know that?"

"And you love me for it, don't you, Scully?"

She snorts softly, drawn back to the file as she finishes off the fruit and milk. "This DiNozzo is damned lucky to be alive, even if he's currently floating in a comatose state. I don't know how he managed to survive that attack."

"Sheer perversity, from what his teammates have explained about his personality." Pausing to take a bite of my sandwich, I consider the yellow pad Dana's been taking notes on. "So what do you think the odds are of Ziva and Natalia being a match? Do we have a united Sentinel-Guide pair on our hands? Or are we going to have two disappointed and unattached people?"

Dana shrugs and stares at the file for a moment longer before closing it. "I don't know. The only thing I know for sure right now is that Calleigh's torn between wanting Ziva to be the one for Nat--"

"And wanting this to be all wrong," I continue smoothly. "Yeah, I know. I wish there was something I could tell her, or do for her, to make this whole situation easier. And she doesn't even have the dangling half of a bond to worry about." I shake my head and viciously stab at a tomato in my salad. "No, I take that back. She does have a dangling half of a bond to worry about. She's the only anchor Nat's got that isn't somehow related to the Sentinels and Guides we've managed to collect out at the Ranch."

"It sounds like we're some sort of hoarders when you say it like that."

Silence descends again for several minutes as we work our way through every last crumb of food on the tray. Dana's focus returns to the medical file, while I grab the FBI files on DiNozzo and his entire team, plus the files I have on Calleigh and Natalia. I am still surprised by the thickness of Ziva's file, but I know I shouldn't be. She has been a Mossad agent for what seems her entire life. Comparing and contrasting the information between Nat's and Ziva's files, I am struck once again by the differences in their lives.

"Dana, did you know that there's a ten and a half year gap in age between Nat and Ziva?"

"So?" Dana asks, not bothering to glance up from the file she's still studying. What on earth can she be studying for so long in that one file? "There's a larger gap between Zo and Kerry. And don't forget about Anastasia and Tessa."

"I know, I just find it interesting, that's all. Besides, your examples aren't Sentinel-Guide pairs, so that's different."

Now she looks up at me with an exasperated glare. "Okay, then how about Jim and Blair? There's at least the same ten year age gap for them as for Nat and Ziva. What's your point, Mon?"

"None, I guess. I just thought it was interesting. How on earth do the genetics work to have Sentinels and Guides pair up when they're of different ages? What if one dies before the other? I mean, with Jim and Blair, the Sentinel half is older, and we have a pretty strong speculation that the Guides can live okay without the Sentinels. But Ziva's the younger one if this match works out. What would happen to her if Natalia dies before her? Will she end up like Alexis?"

That thought is sobering. Even after four years of working with and watching over the half-crazed Sentinel, I am still completely in awe of her ability to survive through all of her insanity without her Guide. Yes, Tory has been a godsend, and the other Sentinel-Guide pairings living at the Ranch have done everything they could to help with Alexis, but most of them are children and unable to be left with her unsupervised.

"We're better off not thinking about that sort of thing right now," Dana finally says. "I know it's something we'll need to be prepared for, but right now, without even knowing whether Ziva and Natalia are a match, it's superfluous to waste energy on that train of thought. Right?"

"No, you're right. I just have to wonder about these things."

Dana smiles and reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. "You overthink things sometimes, Mon, and it can drive me absolutely insane, but I know you mean well by it. You just want to make sure that you have all of your bases covered, especially since everything comes down on you for this project." When I nod, she squeezes my hand again. "Tell you what. If you're right, and your little bit of Sentinel matchmaking works, I will take you out to dinner at that fancy restaurant that Dace likes. You know which one I mean, right? I’m completely blanking on the name right now."

Grinning broadly, I nod. "Oh, I know which one you're talking about and no, I can't remember the name either. How sad are we tonight?"

"Not sad, tired."

"Good point." Before I can say anything else, I yawn loudly and suddenly. "Thanks for reminding me, _mi corazon_."

Dana's delighted chuckle is marred by her own yawn, though it's nowhere near as loud as mine. "I take full responsibility for that. And I plan to take a nice long nap tomorrow with you, and hopefully William, after this introduction is done."

"I think I like that idea."

And I put in a prayer to any deity that might be listening that this meeting is successful, and that DiNozzo comes out of his coma soon. It's the least that Ziva and Natalia deserve.


	14. Fourth of July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Cuddling in public".

++ Dana ++

(07-04-06)

Now that Ziva and Natalia have determined their Sentinel-Guide bond is in fact valid, they don't need me and Monica dogging their every single step nearly as much as just a few short days ago. And since Tony woke up earlier today, they've been spending the bulk of the day at the hospital with him, as well as the rest of the NCIS contingent. The last I'd heard from Calleigh was that it looked like Tony would have some permanent damage, but should be pretty good. I know that Sam's already offered the Healing Device to Monica, but I don't know that these poor people are quite ready for alien technology on top of everything else right now.

"Mama! Ice cream?"

William's eager little voice brings me out of the heavy contemplation I've been caught up in. Today is a day off for all of us, and I really shouldn't be dwelling on such serious and potentially morbid things.

"Ice cream?" I ask incredulously as he comes running toward me, swimmers pulled onto his chest and arms. "How can you ask your mama for ice cream when you're going to go swimming with Kat and your _Mami_? You can't eat and swim at the same time, silly little man."

He pouts for a moment at that realization. Monica sneaking up behind him to scoop him up into her arms easily distracts him from going into any sort of temper tantrum for ice cream. He giggles and clings to her neck easily as she leans over to offer me a quick kiss.

"Wanna join us?"

"Give me a few to finish this thought first, okay?"

Monica quirks a curious brow as she stares at the journal I've got open, but doesn't question me further. "We'll be having all sorts of fun without you. Don't make us use it all up waiting for you."

Chuckling, I shake my head and shoo them off toward the pool. This UV shade that we had built over the entire pool area was quite probably the best thing ever. While we still use sunscreen, there is practically no chance of serious sunburn while in the water. I don't know where Monica and Dace came up with the idea, but for pale skin like William and I have, it's truly a godsend.

Monica pauses by the water's edge. Setting William down, she grips his hand tightly until Kat swims over to where they're at. William claps his hands and squeals as she dives under the water and surfaces right next to the wall.

"Kat! Again!"

Kat laughs and shakes her head, saying something that doesn't quite make it over to me in intelligible words. She and Monica share some conversation before William is handed down into the water to latch onto his favorite babysitter. Kat drags him out a little further in the water, slowly letting him get used to the temperature. Once he's out of range, Monica takes a deep breath and dives into the water smoothly. I lose track of her body for a few seconds as she arches down beneath the surface, holding my own breath until she surfaces again in the middle of the pool. William's happy reaction melts my heart.

Glancing down at the journal in my hands, I find that I am unable to complete the thought I'd been jotting down just a few moments ago. I have all the time in the world to contemplate the complexities of the Sentinel-Guide bond and how to better determine matching up the pairs before they meet. Right now, I would much rather spend the afternoon with my family and friends. Getting to my feet, I cross to the edge of the pool and wait for Monica to notice me. When she swims over to me, I crouch down and smile at her.

"Change your mind?"

"I can't seem to concentrate on this dry, academic speculation right now," I reply with a wry grin. "I'm gonna run this back to the apartment so it doesn't get wet or anything, then I'll be back to join you, okay?"

"Don't forget the sunscreen this time, baby," she teases and laughs when I stick my tongue out at her.

+++++

I haven't had to be this stealthy in quite some time, but it's worth it. Easing into the water, I duck my head to get the shock of the water over with. Thankfully, it's not nearly as cold as I'd have expected for midday on the Fourth of July. I slowly make my way over to where everyone seems to have converged in the water. William is completely distracted by showing off how well he can kick, which makes it easier for me to sneak up on him. Emily suddenly glances up to meet my gaze, but the movement escapes his notice, and she smiles before helping to distract him further. Finally reaching that end of the pool, I stand quietly behind William as he explains some story to Kat and Emily in the stuttering speech he affects when thoroughly excited.

"Boo!" I whisper, fingers reaching out to tickle his sides under the swimmers.

William squeals in surprise, splashing water everywhere in his attempt to turn around and see who scared him. "Mama!" he finally cries out when he spots me, arms stretching toward me.

With practiced ease, I take my son from Kat to hold him close, and smile my thanks to the young woman. She grins, waves at William, and dives under the water to swim away with a few powerful kicks. "Did Mama scare you, handsome?"

"Yes! Again!"

"Again? You're being silly!" Chuckling, I lean in to rub noses with him. "But I like it when you're silly." Glancing around the pool, I see Monica on the far end, talking with Tessa and Dace. Startled to see Tessa in the water, I smile at William. "Look at that, William. Auntie Tessa and Uncle Dace are over with _Mami_. Should we show them how good a swimmer you are?"

At his expected nod, I grip his sides, holding him next to me, and wait for him to start kicking before I slowly make my way over to the other adults. The water barely reaches my chest, and William's frantic kicking is keeping me wet. I'm not sure how he manages to keep kicking and not get my face wet, but I'm not complaining.

"Careful, Mon," Dace says with a smirk. "I think there's a shark coming after you."

"Is that _mi hijo_ I hear splashing toward me?" Monica asks, turning to face us.

" _Mami_! Catch!"

Monica holds out her hands, letting him grab on tightly as she pulls him closer. "Look at you, Billy Bear! You are such a good swimmer!"

"Mama help."

She glances up to smile at me. "So I see. It's fun when Mama comes swimming with us, isn't it?"

"Yes!"

+++++

The sun is finally starting to set as Dace announces that the fireworks will be starting soon. It's been a long day, and I want nothing more than to pass out and sleep for at least a week. I don't think I've spent so much time in the pool since I was a child, playing with my brothers and sister. William is nearly asleep, but I know he'll wake up once the overhead show begins. Shifting to sit forward, I glance over to the blanket just a few yards away where Justin and Emily have corralled the younger kids together to watch the fireworks. They have an entire pile of blankets and pillows for all of the kids to get comfortable. Bless Karen, Art, and Dace for coming up with the idea of a semi-slumber party. There are more of the same back in the Great Room, where the actual slumber party will take place for everyone but Wynnie. She's still too little and needs her mom just a little too much yet.

I'm actually looking forward to the slumber party. It will be William's first, and we will actually be leaving the door between the Great Room and our apartment open. Then again, we may change our minds and join the kids. I know they'll have enough chaperones, what with Kat and her moms, Dace, Alex and Olivia, and Karen and Art keeping an eye on all fourteen of them. But it is William's first slumber party. And I really hate missing any of his firsts.

The gentle touch of fingers stroking across my forehead startles me for only the barest of seconds before I recognize Monica's touch. "You're doing it again, Dana. He's just fine."

Taking a deep breath, I force it out slowly and lean back into her arms. "I know he is."

"We're camping out in the Great Room tonight, aren't we?" There's a definite thread of teasing in her voice, and part of me wants to smack her for it. Except she's right, and I know it. "Good," she whispers in my ear, her breath against my skin sending a shiver down my spine. "I kind of didn't want to miss it myself."

Grinning, I shift to capture her lips in a teasing kiss. She moans softly as my tongue darts out to trace her lower lip. When she eases back onto our blanket, I let her pull me down, unwilling to end the kiss just yet. Shifting onto my side, I mold my body along hers, straddling her left leg. When her hand slides up to cup my breast, I pull back from the kiss.

"Not now, _amante_ ," I murmur, breathing heavily. "Not in public."

Monica's groan of frustration turns into a wry laugh. "You are going to kill me, Dana Katherine Scully."

"I'll die with you," I offer, only half-joking.

"You realize that if we join the slumber party, we can't continue this tonight."

Leaning up on my elbow to stare down into her dark, mesmerizing eyes, I smile. "I know, but think of the fun we'll have tomorrow when William's down for a nap."

As Monica's delighted laughter bubbles up, causing more than one head to turn our way, I simply smile and cuddle down into her body for warmth. My head rests on her shoulder, and I can hear her heart beating beneath my ear.

And all is right once again in my world.


	15. National Women's Hall of Fame Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Bubble bath".

++ Monica ++

(07-21-06)

The heads up call came just after I'd put William down for the second time tonight. He's been distressed most of the night, probably because he really hates it when his mama works overtime into the night shift, and just wouldn't go to sleep easily. But Doc Robbins needed the extra help, so Dana offered to take an extra shift to help him out. And now, she's on her way home after a really long day that ended in a horrific accident that she got to handle for him.

Baby monitor clipped to the back of my belt, I begin running the water in the tub and hope I've timed her drive home correctly. Without hesitation, I reach under the sink for the pampering kit that we have set aside for situations like this. Rummaging through the box, I pull out the vanilla bubble bath that Dana adores and set it on the edge of the tub. The candles come out next, waiting and ready on the counter; the scent of lavender and beeswax is already wafting around the room, and they're not even lit yet. Heading back into the main room, I grab the iPod and its speaker station to draft into use, as well. Last, but certainly not least, I head out to the kitchen to pour a glass of the 2005 Ravenswood Sonoma County Syrah that she'd opened last night for dinner.

I no more than get the wine poured and ready to go back into the bathroom, and I hear the front door opening. One look at Dana's haggard face tells me everything I need to know, and I'm crossing the room to her side in half a dozen strides. She tries a tired smile, but fails miserably, and I can almost smell the lingering death and decay from her night in the morgue. No matter, she's home now and I'll make sure that she leaves that grisly horror behind her.

Hanging her coat and purse on the coat tree, her briefcase is casually set aside on the desk, and I pull her into a tight embrace. Dana just clings to me for a long moment, and I can feel the bone-deep fatigue settling into her body.

"Come on, baby," I murmur softly, and tug at her hand as I head toward the bathroom.

She follows me quietly, and stands there as I finally add the bubble bath to the water and light the candles. Immediately the room is suffused with the mingling scents of lavender, vanilla, and beeswax. Taking a deep breath, Dana sighs heavily, and I can sense the tiniest release of the negativity clinging to her like so much dirt. Settling on the toilet, I pull her close to stand between my spread legs and rest one of my hands over her heart for just a moment or two.

Satisfied she's not going to bolt -- or fall over -- I change tactics and begin to unbutton the white blouse I'd watched her put on this morning. Tugging it out of her waistband, I let it fall from her arms to pool at her feet and stroke my arms gently from her fingertips to her sternum. Once again, my hand rests over her heart for a moment, taking reassurance in the steady beat of her heart. Leaning in, I press a gentle kiss to her sternum and reach behind her to unhook the utilitarian bra she always wears when she's working in the morgue. Dana shivers slightly as the cotton and satin material falls from her body, freeing her ample décolletage. But I don't tease and stroke those beautiful breasts of hers; this is not yet the time for that sort of sensation.

Continuing to disrobe my beloved partner, I ease the leather belt from her pants before easing the gabardine down her legs. This leaves her in panties and heels; under normal circumstances, I'd be a slavering fool for her at this point, but not tonight. Her hands grip my shoulders as I ease pants and heels off, taking the time to lightly massage each foot before setting it back on the floor. This elicits a soft moan of appreciation, and I know I've done the right thing to help restore her equilibrium. When she's down to just the panties, I press another quick kiss to her stomach, just above her navel, then slide the material down off her body.

Taking a moment to drink in the sight of her before I stand up, I mouth "I love you" to her and get a small smile in reply. She sways slightly on her feet and I'm on my feet to pull her close. Her head falls onto my chest, the red hair standing out in such sharp contrast to the worn, white t-shirt I'm wearing. Offering her my body's warmth and every energy reserve I can spare, I just hold her there for a couple of moments. Only when Dana lifts her head to meet my gaze do I loosen my hold on her body.

"Thank you," she murmurs roughly. "I just--"

"You're welcome, _mi corazon_. Now, into the tub with you and I'll bring in your wine."

I watch as she slips into the water, groaning as the hot water covers her body. Pressing the iPod into life to play our favorite relaxation playlist, I head back out into the kitchen to retrieve the syrah. Pausing only long enough to grab the bottle and fill a plate with some grapes and cheese cubes, I head back into the bathroom and settle on the floor next to the tub.

Already, she looks a hundred times better than just a couple of moments ago, and I know there's more relaxation to come. She smiles gratefully at the sight of the tray in my hands. She takes a long sip of the wine, pauses a moment to savor it, then repeats the sequence three more times to drain the glass. Without hesitation, I refill her glass, but hand her some of the cheese first.

" _Mami!_ "

We both jump at the sound of William's voice coming over the monitor. I stay Dana with a hand, getting up to head into his bedroom. Without hesitation, I scoop him up into my arms, cuddling him close for a moment before heading back into the bathroom.

"Hey, handsome," Dana says softly when we appear in the doorway. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Mama," he whimpers when he sees her, but won't lift his head from my shoulder.

Dana studies us for a long moment, chewing at her lower lip. "Mon?" she asks softly.

She doesn't even have to finish the request. I nod and settle on the toilet again to undress our sleep-warmed son before handing him into her embrace in the water. William squirms for the briefest moment as the bubbles tempt him, but quickly settles his little body against Dana's chest, head falling to her shoulder easily. She gently strokes his back and head with a washcloth I hand her, murmuring softly the whole time. I can just make out the words she's crooning as belonging to the song currently playing on the iPod, thoroughly captivated by the sight of his long eyelashes fluttering open and closed several times as he fights sleep to spend time with his mama in the tub.

They lay there like that for several minutes after he's fallen asleep again. The transformation that has come over Dana is poignantly beautiful to me. All of the bad things she dealt with at the morgue have just sloughed off like so much dead skin in the face of the utter love and devotion she feels for our young son. I shift down to sit next to the tub again and feed her grapes and cheese while she lays there.

"We're going to end up a couple of wrinkled prunes," she finally says, and I'm thrilled to hear the note of amusement in her voice.

"But I like it when you're all wrinkly from the water," I say and grab for a towel to wrap William up in when she's ready to relinquish him to me. Not surprisingly, that comes relatively soon. "And before you ask, I have no problems with William joining us in our bed tonight."

"Oh thank you, Monica," she says, eyes going bright with unshed tears.

"You're welcome, baby." I ease back up onto the toilet again and gently towel our peacefully sleeping son dry. "I think you both need the reassurance of being surrounded by the family that loves you."

She grins again and lets the water start to drain from the tub. When it's almost empty, she quickly closes the shower curtain and turns on the shower to quickly scrub down and remove the last of the bubbles from her skin. I could happily sit right here, cradling a sleeping William in my arms as I watch Dana in her perfunctory shower. She dries off quickly and blows out the candles, shutting off the iPod in turn. As I head into the bedroom with William, she grabs the tray with the wine and food, balancing it against her chest to keep her towel around her body.

Once in the bedroom, Dana sets the tray aside and slips into the Thomas pajamas that William and I had picked out for her birthday. Climbing into bed, she gets comfortable and settles the extra pillow for William between our own pillows before I ease him down under the covers next to her. He moans softly, but doesn't wake up, and unerringly scoots over to rest his head and an outstretched arm on her stomach. Smiling at the sight, I head back to the bathroom to make sure everything is put away before grabbing Thomas from William's bedroom.

When I return to the bedroom, Dana is finishing off the last of the grapes and cheese, washing it down with the wine still in her glass. She smiles sleepily at me, and I can feel her eyes watching me as I change into my own pajamas and crawl under the covers. Turning to face her, I gently stroke William's still-damp hair lightly.

"Thank you, Monica," she finally says. "I don't know how, but you knew exactly what I needed." Before I can say anything, she purses her lips and chuckles wryly. "Al called you, didn't he? I told him not to."

"He was worried about you, Dana. And if he hadn't called, someone else from the night shift would have, and you know it."

"True."

"Besides, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it and, more importantly, William could feel it. He was cranky and restless all night, and not just because you were working longer than normal. He kept waking up and calling for you."

Dana leans over and presses a kiss to the top of William's head. "My poor baby," she murmurs. "I'm sorry he was so upset and I wasn't here to help calm him."

I shake my head and stroke her cheek. "It's okay. We're in this together, right? We're a family, and family takes care of its own without hesitation. I'm just glad you're feeling better now. You are feeling better, right?"

"Yes, I am. You and William have done wonders to make me feel whole and clean again, inside as well as outside."

When she yawns loudly, I chuckle and stretch over William's body to give her a light kiss, caressing her cheek in the process. "Sleep now, baby. William and I are right here, and you've nowhere to be tomorrow, so sleep in as long as you want. If he gets up early, I'll get up with him and we can go watch cartoons and cook you breakfast. How's that sound?"

"Heavenly. I love you, Monica."

"Love you, too, Dana. Sweet dreams."

It seems like Dana no more than sets her head on her pillow and she's just as deeply asleep as William is. I lay there for several minutes, watching them sleep, keeping them safe from the bogeymen that may haunt their dreams, before finally turning off the light and joining my family in sleep.


	16. Happiness Happens Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Sunset stroll".

++ Dana ++

(08-08-06)

"How on earth did we get so lucky?" Monica asks, stretching back on the blanket next to me. "It's not stiflingly hot for once. And that breeze?"

Chuckling, I shake my head and lean over to stretch out next to her. "It's heavenly, isn't it?"

Monica doesn't answer, choosing instead to pull me closer to her side. Sighing happily, I don't bother to fight her at all. We couldn't have asked for a better day if we'd had a direct line to God Himself. I do miss William's presence here, but he's off at the park with the rest of the kids for the day. I really need to remember to do something nice for the Farazell-Fraiser clan; they've always been willing to take William along on their "field trips"; nine children isn't any more difficult for them to handle than eight children, according to Darya and Janet. Of course, with five adults, that's really only two kids per adult on average.

"Tell me something, baby," Monica finally says, one hand stroking my hair and back gently.

"What?"

"How is it that William has no issues dropping us for a trip to the park with Cubby and the other kids? What if we'd wanted to go to the park with him? What if I wanted him to push me on the swings?"

It doesn't take long for her to start shaking with suppressed laughter. I'm not sure where she gets her strange sense of humor from, but it certainly never fails to keep me on my toes. I shift up to stare at her for a moment before joining her in laughter, particularly at the image of Monica getting herself stuck in one of those baby swings that William adores. Does this mean that her sense of humor is contagious? Damn!

We lay there for several more minutes, and I can't help but send a silent thank you to whoever it was that sold Anastasia this plot of land along Lake Mead. We're completely alone and secluded here. The water is surprisingly quiet, as well, particularly for a Tuesday afternoon in August. The breeze has created little waves on the water, but I have absolutely no desire to go swimming. Having a pool has certainly spoiled me against spending time in a lake. If he were still alive, Ahab would be horrified to hear me say something like that. But I am content to just lay here with Monica. We're in a shaded spot, secluded and quiet, and I could so easily fall asleep under the right circumstances.

"Penny for them?"

"Hmm?"

"Your thoughts," Monica says, shifting up onto her elbow. "You've gone pretty quiet on me all of a sudden, Dana. Is everything okay?"

Offering her a reassuring smile, I lean up to press a light kiss to her lips. "Everything's fine. I'm just content to be lying here with you and enjoying a particularly mild August day in Las Vegas. Should there be something wrong?"

"Not a damned thing," she replies with a shake of her head. She turns to glance out at the water for a moment, and I'm struck by her beauty all over again. When she finally meets my gaze again, there's a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. "Hey, Dana?" My eyes narrow as I study her face, trying to determine her intentions. "Wanna go for a swim?"

"I am not skinny dipping in Lake Mead, Monica. I don't care if this is a private section of land. Besides, you know I'm not all that thrilled with lake water."

Her expression crumples into a pout, and she nibbles at her lower lip thoughtfully before delight lights up her face again. "What about the paddleboat? We could tool around the lake for a little while, build up an appetite for that yummy picnic lunch Kerry packed for us, and maybe fool around after we eat?"

Chuckling at the eagerness in her voice, I consider her suggestion. A momentary panic hits until I remember that, yes, I did pack the sunscreen before we left the apartment. Oh, why the hell not? It could be fun. Sitting up, I turn to dig out the sunscreen and press the tube into her hands.

"You're on, but first we need sunscreen. I am not going to have a repeat of that horrible sunburn I got on Earth Day." I can't help but shudder at the memory of that painful sunburn that felt like it took forever to heal. "And so help me God, but if William comes home from his field trip to the park with a cold, I'm going to be beating some heads into the wall."

Monica chuckles in sympathy and begins to cover my exposed skin with the thick, cool lotion. It feels fantastic as her fingers massage it into my skin, loosening up my muscles along the way. Once she has me adequately covered, I repeat the same procedure on her. Satisfied with our coverage, we stand and make our way down to the dock to pull on life vests. She steadies the boat while I step in and get myself settled, then pulls up the sun shade before she joins me and shoves off from the dock. We paddle backwards for a few feet before turning around to head out onto the lake itself.

As we lazily meander around the lake, enjoying the view, I am grateful for Anastasia and Tessa having this particular boat custom made to compensate for the differences in their heights, which are similar to mine and Monica's. I'd hate to be unable to sit back in my seat because I had to help paddle the boat. Thankfully, I can relax into my seat and hold hands with Monica while we take in the sights.

After about forty-five minutes or so, Monica steers us back toward our dock. Thankfully, I'm not completely worn out by the time we get back, but I've certainly worked up quite an appetite. We get out of the boat in the opposite order as we'd gotten into it, and I watch with silent admiration as she moors the boat to the dock again and drops the shade.

Taking my hand, she leads us back up to our blankets. A quick wiping down with a damp washcloth and towel cleans up the worst of the sweat and extra sunscreen that may flavor our food adversely. I pull the cooler over to start taking out our lunch, but Monica stops me with an intense kiss, her tongue slipping between my lips with little resistance from me. She really does know how to derail me from whatever I'd been intending to do. The frustrated groan that follows after the absence of her mouth is not feigned.

"I hate it when you do that," I mutter darkly.

Monica's laughter surrounds me and sends a jolt of desire sizzling down my spine. "No, you don't! You love every single second of it, Dana Scully!"

Pursing my lips in a vain attempt to stave off the flush of acknowledgment at her accuracy, I shake my head. "That's beside the point, and you know it. We're supposed to be eating now."

"Oh, I can think of something I wouldn't mind eating a whole bunch of right about now," she quips and waggles her eyebrows suggestively at me. "Or maybe I should say someone…"

"Are you kidding me? Who are you? Dace?" Monica wisely doesn't answer me, instead stroking my cheek gently. Her gaze is contrite, and any brief annoyance I may have felt dissipates instantly as I turn to press a kiss to the palm of her hand. "You're quite lucky that I love you so much, Monica. I'd be kicking some serious ass for that comment otherwise."

"I know," she replies, and that mischievous twinkle is back in her eyes again.

We fall into a comfortable silence as the food is pulled out and set on the blanket. Kerry really outdid herself this time: turkey sandwiches with cranberry jelly and stone ground mustard on multi-grain bread; Zo and Art's favorite Greek salad; prepackaged cups of grapefruit chunks; and Kerry's favorite sweet tea recipe. The only thing that's missing is potato salad, but that's okay. Everything else will still be okay if it gets a little warm. I'll get the potato salad when we get home. Maybe I'll even make macaroni salad for dinner and give William a treat.

"Mon? How long did you want to stay out here?"

She shrugs and glances out at the water for a long moment, squinting only slightly. "Dunno. I'd kind of like to stay until after dark, watch the sun set over the lake. But we didn't really clear that with anyone back at the Ranch, and it would be kind of tacky to start trying to set that up now. Why? Did you want to go back home already?"

"No, not yet. I think I want another ride in the paddleboat. That was a lot more fun than I expected it to be, and really calming, too."

Monica chuckles. "I think I can handle another tour around this part of the lake after we eat. You just have to make me a promise for later tonight."

"You're not going to make me promise you fish tacos after William goes to bed, are you?" I ask, using the same phrase she's used in jest before.

"Mmm… As much as I love me some fish tacos, no, that's not what I was going to ask you."

"So what were you going to ask me to promise you?"

"If we can get someone to keep an eye out on William once he's down for the night, I want to go out into the desert and watch the sun set. Just the two of us. It's not quite the same as watching it over the lake, but it'll still be pretty."

Feeling a sappy smile spread across my face, I nod readily. "I think I can accommodate that request. If we can't get someone to watch him tonight, we'll get it arranged for tomorrow night. And when we get back to the apartment after our stroll, I further promise you all the fish tacos you want."

"Oh hell yes, I can handle that promise!" she says and leans over to pepper my face with sloppy kisses. "Thank you, baby! You spoil me!"

"You are more than worth it, _amante_."


	17. Kiss And Make Up Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Vacation".

++ Monica ++

(08-25-06)

_From the personal journal of Monica Reyes_

> _The sun is far brighter than I would have expected for this early in the morning in Seattle. Oddly enough, it didn't wake Dana first, like normally happens. Which is how I'm lucky enough to be writing in this journal right now._
> 
> _I don't remember the last time I was in Seattle, but it certainly wasn't this pretty, that's for sure! If memory serves correctly, it was raining the last time I was here, and that's kind of what I was expecting this time, too. Of course, we got in late last night, after the sun had already set, and I was far too exhausted to really pay attention to anything. I barely remember the drive from the airport out to Darya's parents' house, having started dozing on Dana's right shoulder, since William had the left one claimed already._
> 
> _I'm still not sure how her parents managed to squeeze an extra seven adults and nine children into their house. The physics of it are beyond me, but I dare not let Sam hear that, or she'll start trying to explain it to me. That woman will put me to sleep within about ten minutes, if I'm lucky._

A knock at the door startles me just enough to jump slightly. Getting up carefully from the bed, so as not to wake Dana or William, I pad over to the door and open it to find Karen standing there.

"Rise and shine, campers," she says with disgusting cheerfulness. "Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes, and we need to be on the road to hit the ferry over to Port Angeles in about an hour. If we're late, Cap'n Jack will have my balls in a sling."

"You don't--"

"She'll find them, trust me! Get your wife and son up, Reyes. I'm off to make sure the rest of my brood is up and moving around," she says with a grin and heads back down the hall.

Shaking my head, I shut the door and turn back to face the bed. Dana's beautiful blue eyes are blinking sleepily at me and she yawns loudly.

"What time is it?" she asks, squinting to stare at the display on her cell phone. "It's five-thirty in the morning! I thought we were on vacation."

"We are, but it doesn't really start until we're actually on the boat, right? And Karen's pretending she's still in the Air Force to make sure we don't dawdle too much."

She snorts and shifts in the bed, pulling William up into a sitting position with her. He slumps heavily against her body, mouth hanging open as a snore escapes his lips. She starts to stroke his face and hair gently, gradually extending it to his back and arms, until his eyelashes flutter slowly.

"Good morning, handsome," she says in a soft tone. "Are you ready to get up and go on the big boat today?"

"Boat?"

"That's right, _mi hijo_ ," I reply, joining them on the bed again. "We have to get dressed now and have breakfast. Then we can take the big ferry out to where we'll get on the pirate ship. Remember the pirate ship?"

"Wanna see the pirate ship!" he crows, squirming in Dana's arms.

+++++

"Not a pirate ship!" William exclaims loudly as we watch the ferry come in.

The declaration causes several heads to turn in our direction, and I can hear amused laughter filtering over. William's aggravated pout is trying my own resolve not to laugh. We won't mention the dirty look Dana's giving me to make sure I don't laugh. Karen doesn't bother to hide her snort of amusement, nor does Darya's father. I hate them.

"That's a ferry, _mi hijo_ , and we need to take a ferry to get us closer to the pirate ship."

He nods slowly, and I know he doesn't quite understand that yet. But we get back into the chartered bus that Sylvia and Anastasia arranged for us as they start unloading the ferry. It takes a couple of moments to get everyone situated again, and by that time, we're pulling ahead to take our place on the main deck. Once everyone's been loaded and the ferry's underway, we get out of the bus to watch the water. William stares in fascination at the gulls and the waves.

" _Mami_ , look!" He points out to our right, where I can see a small pod of dolphins leaping out of the water. "Look!"

Flagging down Karen, she quickly gathers the rest of the kids and brings them over to join us in watching the dolphins playing out in the water for what feels like the entirety of our trip. Even when I was growing up in Mexico, I don't remember seeing something this wonderful; sharing this with my son and these other children just makes it all the more special. All nine kids fight getting back into the bus until we promise them that we will probably see more dolphins when we're on the ship.

Dear god, I hope we don't end up breaking that promise.

+++++

"Ahoy, Captain!" Karen calls out as we all stop on the deck between two ships moored side by side.

A striking brunette comes out onto the deck of the _Major Arcana_ , decked out in the clichéd pirate's garb of tight fitting pants, boots, white poet's shirt, and pirate hat. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she intentionally dressed like Captain Hook, sans jacket. And then I notice the sword dangling at her side. Nice touch!

"Ahoy there, mateys!" she calls back, posing in that classically clichéd pirate captain's stance. "What d'ye be wanting of the great Cap'n Jack of the _Major Arcana_?"

The gasps of recognition from the older three kids makes me chuckle, but I don't say anything just yet. William has gone completely still in my arms, mesmerized by the sight before him. Before any of us can say anything, a man steps out onto the deck of the other ship, the _Lady Washington_ , dressed in similar attire.

"You've nothing they want, Cap'n Jack," he calls out, adopting the same stance she has. "They'll be wanting to sail on the _Black Pearl_ , I'd wager."

Captain Jack tilts her head back in riotous laughter. "You tell tall tales, blackguard! That skiff you row about isn't the _Black Pearl_. Her name clearly says _Lady Washington_. And you're no Captain Jack Sparrow either! Besides, I'm the original Cap'n Jack." She turns and levels us with a steady gaze. "So, again, mateys, what is it you want with Cap'n Jack?"

Karen sketches a quick bow to both captains before smiling at Captain Jack. "Permission for me and my modest crew of scallywags to come aboard your fine ship is all I ask, Captain."

"Can they work for their supper?"

"Aye, Captain, and without so much as a peep of protest."

"Permission granted," comes the reply as a burly blonde steps out onto the deck directly behind her. He has a bandana tied around his head and a patch over one eye, but it's the bushy reddish-blonde beard and moustache that draw my attention the strongest. Captain Jack turns to glance at him with a grin before flourishing a hand toward us. "This is my first mate, Dugan. Anything you need, you'll be speaking with him. Dugan, these are our new crewmates. Break them in and quickly. We set sail within the hour."

"Aye aye, Cap'n Jack," he replies with a broad grin as Captain Jack saunters off into the cabin, thumbs hooked into her belt. It certainly leaves us with a lovely view of her backside as she goes. Once she's back in the cabin, he faces the group of us and waves us closer. "Come along now! You heard the captain. No dillydallying!"

+++++

"He's never going to go to sleep, Monica," Dana snorts with barely disguised fondness. "I don't know why you're even trying."

Glancing up at her, I offer up my most charming smile. "Oh ye of little faith," I tease, still gently rocking back and forth in the hammock with William. "But maybe if you came and joined us in this hammock, we might all take a little nap. How's that sound, _mi hijo_?"

When William nods eagerly, Dana sighs and exaggeratedly rolls her eyes before carefully navigating her way into the hammock with us. William giggles softly, nestled between his mama and his _mami_ , and shifts to press sloppy kisses to our cheeks. Within minutes, he is gently snoring, and Dana doesn't look like she's going to be lasting too much longer.

"Don't you say it," she mutters darkly around a yawn.

"Not a word, _mi corazon_. And please don't let me stop you from napping. That's what this little vacation is for, right? We help out Captain Jack with shaking down the new crew and we get a great trip for William's memory book."


	18. International Chocolate Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Hot cocoa".

++ Dana ++

(09-13-06)

There are days that I really hate being the first one up around here. And today would be one of them. If Monica wasn't already up. What the hell? She always sleeps in, unless she's got an early teleconference with Agent Hotchner's team or Mrs. Bartlet. And she's not supposed to be having one of those today. So why the hell is she up so early today?

Stretching slowly, I glance to my left and see that the monitor's gone, which means Monica's not down in the office. She'd leave me the monitor to listen for William if that was the case. Curiosity now definitely has me awake. Tossing back the covers, I turn to sit up. That's when I see the note on my nightstand.

> _Hey baby,_
> 
> _Don't panic, William's with me._
> 
> _When you get up and get this note, get pull your robe on and come join us in the Great Room. Kerry and I are making breakfast for everyone that's here today. There's an emphasis on chocolate in today's meal because it's International Chocolate Day. Zo read about it online and used it to wheedle chocolate out of Kerry for breakfast. And yes, I'm making my infamously decadent hot cocoa. There'll be a cup or two with your name on them._
> 
> _Love you._
> 
> _Mon_

Hot chocolate was a childhood favorite, especially in the cold winter months, but it was quickly replaced by coffee by the time I was sixteen years old. The need for caffeine to make better use of the day fueled my decision. But it's never a proper Christmas morning without a big mug of hot cocoa with several miniature marshmallows floating and melting in it.

Quickly grabbing for my robe and slippers, I head out of the bedroom, through the apartment, and on into the Great Room. The cacophony of sounds that greets me is nearly enough to bring on one hell of a headache. Monica will pay for this. She knows better than to do something like this before I've had my morning caffeine rush.

"Hey, baby!"

Speak of the devil.

Taking a deep breath, I smile and close the door before heading into the room. It takes just a moment to find my son in the crowd that is our extended family. He's sitting happily next to Jimmy and his two moms, but looks up at me and waves.

"Mama! Cocoa!"

Monica catches up to me as I near Alex and Olivia's table, but my first priority is my baby boy. I lean over to press a kiss of greeting to the top of William's head. "Good morning, handsome," I say warmly. "Are you being a good boy and eating your breakfast?"

"Uh-huh! Cocoa!" he crows and dips a piece of toast into his hot cocoa before stuffing it into his mouth to chew on.

A quick glance at Alex and Olivia confirms that he's been behaving, and I smile my thanks to them. I can see both of them have a big mug of Monica's cocoa, too. If Alex is giving up her morning caffeine, she must really like it!

Long arms wrap around my waist from behind and the scent of Monica's favorite sandalwood shower gel tickles my nose. Inhaling deeply, I lean back against her for a brief moment before turning to face her. "Good morning, Monica," I murmur, leaning up to press a light kiss to her lips.

"Morning, baby. Sleep well?"

"Definitely, but I'd have been happier to wake up with you, or even know that you had this whole thing planned. You kind of freaked me out, to be honest."

"Sorry about that. Happy International Chocolate Day," she says with a sheepish grin. "Have a seat and I'll bring you some breakfast, okay? I was waiting until you got up to eat. Besides, everyone was clamoring for my hot cocoa."

She nuzzles at my temple in an attempt at forgiveness. And, as usual, it works like a charm. Damn her!

"You're a pain in my ass sometimes," I mutter under my breath and smile when she chuckles knowingly. Sitting down, I scrub at my face with my hands in a further attempt to wake up. The disruption of my normal morning routine is not something that I handle well.

"Bite, Mama?" William's sweet question makes me smile and look up at him. He's holding out a soggy piece of buttered toast stained taupe from the hot cocoa. I know damned well that it's going to be a disgusting, mushy mess, but I get up and dutifully take a bite anyway. The delight in his eyes as I chew the mouthful warms my heart. "More?"

"No, William, one bite's enough. But thank you for offering it. You finish up your breakfast, okay? I'm going to sit over here by Auntie Alex and have my own breakfast when _Mami_ brings it to me."

"'Kay!"

Chuckling, I take my seat again as Monica shows up with my mug of cocoa. Just the scent of it has my mouth watering. Ever since she first made me a cup on our first night living here at the Ranch, I have been a slobbering fan for her decidedly decadent and spicy concoction. And she has thwarted every single attempt I have made at figuring out her secret ingredients. It has driven me crazy all this time, but eventually I will have it figured out.

"Kerry's got your breakfast cooking right now. She's been playing short order cook all morning, so everyone's had their breakfast nice and hot and tailor made to their preferences."

With a nod, I start to lift my mug up to take a sip, but pause when she starts to walk away. "Mon? You know how long it'll take for the food to be made. Take a break and sit with me?"

She grins and drops into the chair next to me. "I feel like I've been run ragged this morning! That cocoa of mine is a hot ticket today!"

Olivia laughs and lightly shoves at Monica's shoulder. "Well, yeah! You don't make it very often, Monica. What did you expect when we all got that email from Zo, talking about celebrating chocolate for a breakfast that includes your famous hot cocoa?"

Monica shrugs her shoulders sheepishly. "I wasn't thinking?"

"That much is obvious," Alex replies drily as she takes another sip from her mug. "But I will fully forgive you if I can have your recipe."

That makes me laugh loudly. "Oh, that's a good one, Alex! She won't even let me have the recipe, and I sleep with her. What makes you think she's going to give it to you?"

Alex shrugs and arches one elegant eyebrow. "My persuasive argumentative style? My track record as a prosecuting attorney?"

"My undying love? My naked body for her every fantasy?" I retort, arching my own eyebrow at her. "Please! I have made her pass out from ecstasy and she still won't give me the recipe. There's nothing you've got that's going to beat that, Cabot."

Olivia splutters into her own cup at my reply, and I can see Monica's skin growing just the slightest bit duskier. It's only upon seeing her reaction that I realize exactly what I've just said out loud in mixed company. The heat I feel burning my cheeks probably matches Monica's. With a heavy sigh, I pick up my mug and take a healthy gulp.

Oh god. That one gulp is like heaven and hell all rolled up into one fantastic whole. Monica only uses the finest chocolates she can get; Anastasia's connections certainly keep my partner well stocked. I can taste the chicory almost immediately after the chocolate; it's stronger than normal, which means Monica's compensating for my first cup of coffee. A second, more sedate sip reveals the cinnamon and chilies she favors. The third brings the sweetness of agave into the mixture, but I know I'm still missing something elusive.

It doesn't matter what I'm missing from the recipe, what that elusive secret ingredient is. All that matters is that she keeps making this heavenly, sinful concoction for me until the day I die. Savoring another healthy swig of the heady concoction, I set down my mug and lean over to press a kiss to Monica's lips.

"It's not my morning coffee, but it's a good substitute for now," I say softly before kissing her again. "But you owe me a pot of the good stuff later today."

"We'll see," she replies enigmatically.


	19. Wife Appreciation Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Soulmates".

++ Monica ++

(09-16-06)

_Excerpt from the personal journal of Monica Reyes_

> _This is not what I was expecting to happen today. I was planning on giving Dana a whole day of pampering after my one commitment this morning. But it hasn't worked out that way at all. Not that I should be surprised, I suppose. That nightmare last night was just the start of it. I don't even remember what it was about anymore, but it ruined my sleep for the rest of the night. Which, of course, meant that I was tossing and turning all night long. So Dana didn't sleep any better in the end than I did._
> 
> _It's just been a series of clusterfucks ever since then for the two of us, but two stick out most clearly. My teleconference with FLOTUS got cancelled and rescheduled, which should have been a bonus for my day with Dana, except for the fact that she got called in to work, mandatory overtime. There was some sort of pile up out on the I-15 and they were calling in every possible person to help out in the aftermath. Kerry even got called into the hospital to help in the ER._
> 
> _They've both been gone for the last fourteen hours now, and I have no idea when I'm going to see Dana next. She did call earlier to say that it would still be a while, and to tell William good night before he went to bed. Dinner is in the refrigerator, waiting to be made when she gets home, though it will most likely end up being made tomorrow. I seriously doubt Dana's going to want to do anything besides shower and sleep whenever she ends up getting home._
> 
> _I just wish there was something I could do to make this all go away for her._

Closing my journal with a sigh, I pinch the bridge of my nose and glance over at the clock. Ten thirty-seven. I really hope someone's going to give her a ride home. We can go get the car in the morning. Heading into the kitchen, I start to reach for the wine bottle, but stop myself. If she needs me to go get her, I need to be able to drive. Wait a minute, who's going to watch William if I have to leave? As I try to remember who might still be up at this point, there's a knock at the door. Opening it, I find Zo standing there, a sleeping Tamia in her arms.

And then I remember that Karen had driven Dana and Kerry in this morning, rather than having extra cars, so she'll have to call to get home. Or take a cab, but I seriously doubt she'll do that. She might even catnap and wait for the grave shift to be done and come home in the morning. But I don't want her to come home in the morning. I want her to come home now.

"Hey, Mon, can you watch Tamia for me for like an hour or so? Kerry just called and said she's ready to come home."

I quickly take the sleeping three-year-old from her, trying to squelch down the disappointment that Kerry can come home, but Dana can't. "Yeah, no problem, I'll just let her curl up on the couch here with me until you get back." I really hope I don't sound as pathetically depressed to Zo as I do to myself.

"You're a dork, Monica," she says with a tired grin. "I'm bringing Dana home, too. Ecklie wouldn't let her work more than sixteen hours today, and she's actually getting pretty close to that. It's the same as Kerry at the hospital."

"But she didn't call me…"

"Kerry mentioned it when she called me. Apparently, Doc Robbins called her when he came in and saw that Dana was still working. Dana'd said that they came in with Karen this morning, so he called Kerry's cell to see if she was still working or not, because Ecklie was about to come down and send all of the relief people home for some required rest."

And, as if on cue, my cell starts buzzing in my back pocket, Dana's ringtone muted by the denim and my sweatshirt. "Dana, baby, how you doing?"

Zo leans in to brush her lips against Tamia's forehead and waves at me, mouthing that she'll be back soon.

"Tell me the truth, Mon," Dana slurs tiredly. "I've died and gone to hell, haven't I?"

"No," I reply with a sympathetic chuckle. "But I'm betting you wish that's the case, hmm?"

"I don't think so."

++++

The click and turn of the doorknob even sounds exhausted as Dana walks into the apartment. Zo is standing in the doorway, Kerry leaning heavily against her side. Wrapping an arm around Dana's shoulders to bring her closer, I nod at Zo. "Take your wife home and come back for Tamia. It's not a problem. Just come on in and get her."

"Thanks, Mon," she replies and heads off toward their bungalow.

Closing the door, I turn to press my lips to Dana's temple. "You hungry?" Dana shrugs and mumbles some sort of answer, which basically boils down to yes. "Okay, dinner's actually almost ready, so how about you go take a quick shower and the food will be ready when you get done."

Dana smiles tiredly and leans up to kiss my chin. "You're too good for me sometimes, Monica."

"Never good enough," I reply honestly and give her a light push toward the bedroom.

She wanders off into the bedroom, and I can just make out the sounds of her undressing and starting the shower before the oven timer starts to chime. The lamb roast looks absolutely perfect, and the vegetables appear to have cooked to the consistency we both love. Scooping them out, I get to work on thickening up the gravy just a little bit more so it's the way Dana loves it. There's a quick knock at the front door before Zo steps into the room and goes to scoop up her daughter.

"Damn, Mon, that smells good!"

"I'd invite you to join us, but I don't think Kerry would appreciate me co-opting you from her tonight."

Zo chuckles and shifts Tamia on her hip. "You got that right. Thanks again for watching the pickle here. See you guys in the morning sometime."

As she leaves, I turn the off the burner to let the gravy cool and thicken just that last little bit. Plates and silverware come out, followed by an extra wine glass for Dana. The bowls of salad come out of the refrigerator along with the wine bottle. In no time, I have the table set with our food and drinks, and am just lighting the candles as Dana steps out of the bedroom in her Thomas pajamas and a sweatshirt.

"Feel better, baby?" I ask, moving to take her in my arms again. Up close, I can see that she doesn't look nearly as ashen as she had when she stumbled into the apartment.

"The shower was almost orgasmic," she replies and takes a deep breath. "And I think the food may finish me off in short order."

"Well, don't let me stop you." Guiding her to the table, I push in her chair for her before going to sit across from her. I watch her silently as she studies the food in front of her. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that's drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. "Dig in, babe. I made this for you."

Silence dominates the room as we eat our meal. Yes, it's far later than we normally would be having dinner, and Dana would be the first person to admit that this entire day has been anything but normal. She begins to perk up a little more as she practically inhales her dinner, even getting up for a second helping. She also dips into the wine a couple of times, but I'm not about to even consider stopping her, not after the day she's had.

Finally pushing away from the table, Dana groans softly and scrubs at her face. "I am so glad this day is over."

"I bet," I reply and start to clear the table. When Dana stands up, I rest a hand on her shoulder. "Just relax, babe. I've got this taken care of."

"But--"

"But nothing, Dana. You had a long, rough day, and I can take care of cleaning up the kitchen."

She purses her lips, but says nothing further. It takes just a few minutes for me to get the leftovers put away and the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Glancing over at Dana, I can see she's still in the same position; I wouldn't be surprised if she's fallen asleep in her chair. Moving closer, I can see that she's still awake, but only barely.

"Come on, baby, let's get you to bed."

"Hmm?" she asks, blinking up at me. "Sorry, Mon, I'm just so exhausted, and two glasses of wine with dinner was probably a stupid idea."

Shaking my head, I help her stand up and head into the bedroom. As she settles on the bed, I finish turning off the lights in the living room. Without hesitation, I go to kneel next to her and reach for one of her feet to start a gentle massage that works its way up her entire calf. Dana's moan of ecstasy makes me want to chuckle, but I settle for a knowing smile and continue with the massage. Once I know that leg is knot-free, I repeat the process on her other leg.

"Mmm," Dana murmurs, falling back onto the bed. "You're going to put me to sleep, Mon."

"That's my plan, yes."

"But all of your plans for today?"

"Baby, they can wait until you're rested and feeling better. Until then, just let me pamper you like you deserve."

And I mean every word of it.


	20. Friday the Thirteenth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Sick in bed".

++ Dana ++

(10-13-06)

The very thought of getting into a vertical position right now makes my stomach turn flip-flops that would make an astronaut puke in zero-g. And just thinking about floating in zero gravity further encourages the puke reflex. Just as I reach for the trash can, the bedroom door opens and Kerry walks in with a cheerful smile on her face, medical bag slung over a shoulder.

"How are you feeling today, Dana?"

"Get out!" I croak and gesture back toward the door she just entered.

Bad move, Dana Scully! The coughing starts again, and I am helpless to stop the spasms from wracking my body. By the time the paroxysm finally stops, I am drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted. Kerry's hand feels incredibly cool and comforting against my cheek and forehead.

"You're still pretty warm, Dana," she says slowly. "And I see the coughing hasn't eased up at all." She shakes her head, but the motion makes me feel nauseous again and I close my eyes.

"Seriously, you need to stop rocking the bed, Kerry, or you're going to be wearing whatever's left in my stomach."

Kerry chuckles and takes my wrist in her hand. "Well, that answers my question about whether or not you've eaten anything. Are you keeping anything down at all?"

"Monica's trying to poison me with Pedialyte."

"I told you that I'm doing no such thing, baby," Monica says with exasperation, her voice coming from the direction of the doorway. "I'm following Kerry's instructions to help you get better."

"Then Kerry's trying to poison me with Pedialyte."

That blessedly cool hand rests against my forehead again, stroking gently. "If I was going to poison you, you'd have been dead a long time ago," she replies, and I can hear the amusement in her tone. "We need to get your fever down a little more. Monica, can you go run a bath for Dana? Let's see if that helps."

I try to shake my head, but the thought of moving in any way has my stomach lurching again. It takes several slow, deep breaths to settle the rumbling back down. What in the hell is going to happen when I have to stand up and head into the bathroom?

"Oh god, Kerry, I'm not going to be able to make it to the bathroom."

"Don't worry about it, Dana," she replies. "We'll take care of it. You rest here while we set everything up, okay?"

"Really not planning on going anywhere while you're gone," I retort crankily, then suck in a breath as the bed lurches when she stands up. "Oh god…"

+++++

I must have fallen into some sort of sleep-like stupor after Kerry got up because the next thing I can remember is being set in the tub. The cool water feels like the softest silk ever touched by human skin. The realization that there's something wrapping around my body comes next. Oh, that blanket's going to be hell to get dried once this is all over. But I don't care. I'm finally feeling just the slightest bit less painful, and that's all that matters to me at this point.

"Open up," Kerry's voice intrudes on my temporary calm.

Without hesitation, I do as she says and swallow down the contents of the spoon's curved surface. "Mmm, lemony," I murmur.

"Good. You can taste something finally. Now let's hope this stays down."

Cracking an eye open to stare at her, I can see the bottle and spoon in her hand. "What is it?"

"Codeine-laced cough medicine." She turns to Monica. "Just make sure she gets this every six hours until the cough's gone. And if it gets worse--"

"Call you immediately," Monica finishes the sentence. "I know. And I'll make sure she gets the other meds, too. How long do I keep her in the tub?"

"Oh, I'm not leaving yet," is Kerry's reply as she levers herself back to her feet. "I want to see if this bath helps with the fever or not first. And now I'm going to go snag some of that coffee you have brewing out in the kitchen."

As she heads out of the bathroom, Monica comes to kneel next to me. "How you feeling, baby?"

"The water feels so cool. Thank you."

She smiles broadly and leans over to press a light kiss to my forehead. "You're welcome. You know I'll do anything to help you get better, no matter what it is."

"I'd rather not be sick at all."

"Yeah, same here." Monica has the grace to blush at the realization of what she's said. "But we'll get through this together. One cold is not going to kill either of us, even if we may feel like it will. If it could, we wouldn't have lasted this long, right?"

I nod slowly and blink sleepily. "What the hell was in that cough medicine? I'm exhausted all of a sudden."

She smiles and wets a washcloth to stroke it across my face and neck. Sighing happily at the sensation, I close my eyes again.

+++++

I really need to know what Kerry put in that cough medicine she gave me. I don't remember falling asleep in the tub, nor do I have any recollection of Monica wrestling me out of said tub and back into bed again. All I know is that her voice drags me out of the dream I was having, and I'm not sure I want to leave just yet.

"Come on, baby, wake up. Open those beautiful blue eyes for me."

"Don't wanna."

Monica chuckles and strokes my cheek. "Now I know where William gets that from. And here I thought it was me and my love of lounging in bed with that beautiful woman I love."

"Flatterer," I mutter, forcing myself to open my eyes.

"There you are," she says with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

I consider that question for a moment before answering. I don't remember the last time I had a hard time breathing from the coughing. My lungs don't feel nearly as heavy as they have for the last day -- or is it more than that? -- since this damned fever kicked in. "I've been better, that's for sure, but I suppose I'll probably live. Or did Kerry tell you something different?"

"Damn! She was going to talk to Zo about making me their secondary," Monica says, attempting to pout and failing.

"You know, that pout would be more convincing if you weren't trying to smirk."

"Yep, you're definitely feeling better. Think you can sit up to take your meds and have some Pedialyte?"

Fear gnaws at my stomach at the thought of moving, but I take a deep breath and nod. She moves to slip an arm behind my back, her other hand out for me to grip for balance. We take it slowly, but I manage to leverage myself up into a sitting position. I lean against her as she shifts my pillows behind me before helping me rest back against them. Eyes closing in reaction to the vertigo, I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths, tensing as I wait for the lurching sensation of my stomach dropping to start. When it doesn't, I crack an eye open to glance around the room, relieved that it doesn't dip and swell like it did before that whole bath thing happened.

"Okay, seriously, Mon, what did Kerry put in that cough medicine?"

She hands me the bottle and I study it for just a moment, not seeing anything that would indicate this bottle has anything in it other than what she'd mentioned. Satisfied, I hand it back to her and dutifully open my mouth to take the spoonful of cough medicine from her. That faintly sweet lemon flavor hits my tongue again and I savor it on my tongue for a few extra seconds before swallowing it down. I also take the antibiotics that were prescribed, face screwing up at the bitter taste.

"Next time, this crap goes first, so I can have that yummy taste last," I complain before taking a cautious sip at the Pedialyte bottle Monica hands me.

"I think I can handle that." She reaches behind her and grabs an envelope to give to me. "William requested that I give this to you," she says and leans over to press a kiss to my cheek. "He also wanted me to give you that kiss and said that he misses you, but he's having fun staying with Jimmy and his moms."

The mention of my son causes my heart to clench. I miss him so much, but do not want him to get sick with whatever this plague is that I'm suffering from. As much as I hate to admit it, I am glad that he's enjoying his time spent with Alex, Olivia, and Jimmy. I can tell that Olivia helped him with his card. The penmanship of the word "Mama" on the envelope is all her. Opening the card, I feel the tears prickling in my eyes at the pictures he's drawn for me. Olivia's handwriting states that she has transcribed what William wanted to tell me: that he misses and loves me, and hopes that I'll get better soon so we can have ice cream together and watch _Looney Tunes_. Sniffling, I hand the card to Monica and reach for a tissue to blow my nose and dab at my eyes.

"Smart kid," she says, putting the card on the nightstand where I can see it. "I think once you're better again and definitely no longer so miserable, we'll have a whole day of watching cartoons, cuddled up on the couch. Think he'll like that?"

"Are you kidding? He'll love it, and so will I." I reach for her hand and hold it next to my heart. "Thank you, Monica, for taking care of everything while I've been feeling like death warmed over."

She shakes her head and tugs my hand back to press her lips against my knuckles. "Anytime, _mi corazon_. Besides, I just did what Kerry told me to."

"So when did my fever break?" I finally ask.

"About an hour after we got you in the tub. Kerry thinks it might have been something to do with the codeine in the cough medicine knocking you out enough to let the water cool your body down enough to break your fever. You barely twitched when Zo and I got you back in here from the tub."

I flush hotly at the thought of Zo seeing me naked like that. Kerry doesn't bother me, being a doctor, but Zo? Shaking my head to rid myself of the puritanical thoughts trying to make me feel more embarrassed than I should, especially living here at the Ranch, I sigh softly. "I remember taking the cough medicine, and Kerry saying something about coffee; then you were stroking a washcloth over my face."

"Yeah, you basically fell asleep on me then. I just kept doing what I was doing, and kept an eye on you so you wouldn't drown in the tub. When your fever finally broke, Kerry got Zo to help me get you out of the tub. You can be amazingly heavy dead weight when you're out cold."

"Gee, thanks!" I stick my tongue out at her. "You know, after the washcloth, I had this dream about living in a white pumpkin that flew around on the back of a unicorn. I think I was a mouse princess or something, and you were a unicorn. It was very sweet and happy, but also very strange. Stupid fever dreams!"

Monica chuckles and strokes my cheek. "Just be glad Rachel and Dare didn't hear you say any of that. They'd probably try to analyze what it meant."

I shudder at that thought, happy just to let the dream fade into the background of my mind. "So did Kerry say anything about how much longer I'm stuck in this damned bed?"

"Probably another day or so, just to make sure it's gone. And then you're supposed to take it easy for about a week or so, to keep you from having a relapse."

"I don't like it, but I'll abide by her orders. And once I'm cleared to live my life normally again, we're redecorating this room. I am so sick of this color scheme!"

Monica's delighted laughter brings a smile to my face, perhaps the first I've had since falling prey to this damned fever.


	21. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Nightmares".

++ Monica ++

(10-31-06)

Who knew that too much candy and excitement really is a bad thing for a two-year-old? Especially when it happens on Halloween and the older children managed to talk Karen and Dace into telling ghost stories while everyone toasted marshmallows.

"Is it selfish of me to hope that every other mother in this complex is suffering the same thing we are tonight?" Dana asks in a tired voice. She rocks William slowly, doing her best to soothe him back into sleep again. Maybe this time, the headless horseman nightmares will finally stop.

Is it selfish? I'd really like to go and kick some ass right now for this, but I suspect that Karen, in particular, is getting her punishment from within her own household. Despite all of his bravado and bluff, Cory is pretty easily scared sometimes. The thought of Janet kicking Karen's ass for scaring her younger son soon has me giggling almost maniacally. Of course, Dana's look of incredulity mixed with frustration as William squirms in her arms only makes me giggle harder. I am a dead woman.

"Sorry," I finally say when I know more laughter won't escape my lips. "I was picturing Janet kicking Karen's ass for the one-upmanship she and Dace had for the scary stories."

Dana chuckles a bit at that, shifting William in her arms again. Without hesitation, I stand, stretching a bit, and scoop him up into my arms. His warm weight against my body is reassuring as I settle on the couch again. The slightest shift of my right arm has the footrest of my recliner end of the couch outstretched, and I lean back more comfortably. William sighs softly, head over my heart, and his thumb unerringly finds its way into his mouth.

Dana gets up and refills our mugs of tea. Coming back into the room, she grabs the afghan on the back of the couch and lightly lays it over my and William's bodies. Apparently satisfied with that, she grabs for the afghan on her recliner and moves to curl up next to me on the couch. Turning on the television, she finds a _Xena_ marathon in progress. Neither of us can help the giggles about this particular show, but we also don't bother finding anything else to watch.

"Happy Halloween," Dana murmurs finally during a commercial break.

"Right back atcha," I reply, leaning over to accept her gentle kiss. "So, do you think William's going to remember what candy he got tonight during the trick or treating? Or do I get free rein over what I can eat?"

Shaking her head, Dana turns her attention back to the television for several moments. At the next commercial break, she glances over at the table where William's luridly orange plastic jack-o'-lantern bucket sits, candy still nestled within its depths. I can tell she's debating over something, but am not one hundred percent sure what it is until she gets up and brings the bucket back. Pulling the coffee table closer, she dumps the bucket's contents onto its surface. We've already gone through the candy once, and that doesn't include when all of the adults that live here on the Ranch got together to determine exactly what each household would buy for the kids to get when they came around trick or treating.

Leaning forward just slightly, so as not to wake William up, I watch with avid curiosity as Dana spreads out the haul our son managed to take in tonight, the marathon already forgotten. For a two-year-old boy who doesn't eat a whole lot of candy in the first place, he got some good stuff. He also got some great little toys and healthy snacks, too. I remember how excited he got when Kerry and Zo put six full sized fruit roll-ups in his bucket. Without looking, we knew they were the apple-grape that he adores more than anything else in the world practically. When he got a couple more from them by the bonfire, he nearly went completely out of his mind. They spoil that boy rotten sometimes. But Kerry does that for all of the kids, particularly once she's found a healthy snack that they'll do anything for.

"You know, I don't think the other kids got nearly as many of those damned fruit roll-ups as William did," Dana says with a fond smile.

"Maybe not, but they all got spoiled with something special from Kerry and Zo."

The small pile of Safe-T-Pops is pushed closer to the fruit roll-ups as one of the things William can definitely have, in moderation. Those were Alex and Olivia's contribution to the buckets, along with a small Thomas figurine. My son could practically open a _Thomas the Tank Engine_ store with all of the crap he has amassed in the last year of his life. Alex and Rachel's homemade caramels are set in the stack of things William is still too young for. Score for me! I love those caramels they make during the holiday season. There's also a caramel apple for each of us in the kitchen, to be enjoyed tomorrow, from the Moreau-Corrigan household.

"You've been a mostly good girl tonight," Dana says, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, as she slowly and deliberately opens one of the caramels. But instead of giving it to me, she sticks the end of it in her own mouth. Before I can complain, she leans back toward me.

Far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth, and I do my best to get closer to Dana without waking the finally sleeping boy on my chest. The caramel is soft and buttery and practically melts in my mouth. Then again, maybe it's melting from the heat that results from the kiss we share. Greedily, I sweep my tongue through Dana's mouth, searching out every possible little crumb of that delicacy. And the kiss itself isn't too bad either, if I do say so myself.

Breaking off the kiss with a sigh, Dana leans forward and scoops everything back into the bucket before heading into the kitchen to hide it up on top of the refrigerator. In case William gets up before us, we don't want him to OD on sugar. Coming back into the living room, she turns off all the lights, save the one over the stove. She scans the channels again, finding _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ just about to start on one of the movie channels.

"This is certainly appropriate," I tease gently as she snuggles up against me again and pulls her afghan up over her body.

"My thoughts exactly." She gently strokes William's hair, resting her hand on his back for a moment. "I'm guessing we're going to be out here all night, since he's finally asleep. So we might as well watch something fun until we get tired, right?"

"Makes sense to me," I reply, shifting to wrap my left arm around her shoulders. "As much as William would love Oogie Boogie, I'm glad he's asleep right now. Maybe we can dig out our DVD for him tomorrow."

"That definitely sounds like a good plan. We could even set it up in the Great Room, let all the kids come over and watch it. Well, and all of their grownups would be welcome to join us, of course."

"Of course. Like Dace and Zo are going to miss a chance to watch movies with the kids, especially this one; the kids love it when she does Oogie Boogie's song."

"I don't know who's the worst about parroting back lines from that movie," Dana says with a roll of her eyes. "Dace, Zo, or the kids."

"Ah, but don't forget how much Tessa likes that movie, too," I say with a grin, fondly remembering how she'd dressed up as Sally a couple of years ago at Fawn's request. "They will be out here still tomorrow, won't they? I wouldn't want to see Tessa pout if she misses a family showing of that movie."

Dana shrugs. "I'm guessing so. They would have driven back into town if they weren't planning on it. And I know Dace and Karen aren't going in to the office tomorrow either, so I doubt that Anastasia and Tessa would."

Before I can ask any other questions, Dana unwraps another of the caramels and presses it against my lips. "No more questions tonight, _amante_. Watch the movie with me."

Who am I to refuse such a request?


	22. Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Giving thanks".

++ Dana ++

(11-23-06)

I know better than to go anywhere near the main kitchen today. Well, to be honest, none of us goes anywhere near that kitchen all week, unless we have permission from Kerry to be in there. Yes, it's supposed to be available to anyone living here, but we all know that Kerry has unofficial control over the room, especially since Tamia was born. She takes her job as nutritionist for everyone on the Ranch seriously. And I, for one, am grateful for that. But that doesn't mean I'm stepping foot in her kitchen today.

She's been up since well before dawn, coordinating the cooking of the proteins for dinner today. What am I saying? She's coordinating the entire meal, but the proteins are the major players that need coaching and coordinating. Three twenty pound turkeys, a large honey ham, a pork loin roast, and a pot roast have to be cooked today between all of the ovens in the Ranch. Thankfully, the ham really just needs to be heated thoroughly, so will be the last thing cooked. And that's not even counting the side dishes and desserts. I don't know how she coordinates it all every year for twenty-four adults and fifteen children -- and I'm probably forgetting some people in that estimation -- and pulls it off relatively stress-free. She even manages to make vegetarian fare for Sara that is comparable to the meat-based dishes.

Thankfully, the rest of us have our traditions to uphold, which includes cooking certain dishes in our own homes. Monica has made this fantastic seven layer salad that everyone adores. And it goes together relatively quickly, even in the large quantities that she makes it. I, on the other hand, make the jell-o salad that my grandmother and mother have made all of my life.

William wanders into the kitchen, Thomas dragging behind him, and smiles brightly at me. "Hun'ry, Mama!"

"I know you are, handsome. How about a fruit roll-up?" I ask, reaching into the cupboard to pull out his favorite snack. William's delighted clapping is more than answer enough for me. "Go sit on the couch and I'll start up _Looney Tunes_ for you while you have your fruit roll-up."

He quickly does as I ask, and I can't help the smile spreading across my face as I watch him settle into his favorite corner of the couch, Thomas by his side. That he's sitting in Monica's normal spot is not lost on me. I move to start the DVD before handing him his snack. He sighs happily when I lean over to kiss the top of his head.

"Fank you, Mama."

"You're welcome, handsome."

I head back into the kitchen to check on the set of my jell-o salad as Monica walks into the apartment.

"You know, I can smell the turkeys cooking down in the office? Is it time to eat yet?" She sets her laptop case down on the desk and comes into the kitchen for a quick kiss and a glass of juice. Glancing over my shoulder, she stares at the clock on the stove. "We've got at least another hour before everybody starts gathering for the appetizers and movies. What else do you need me to do?"

I consider her question for a moment, attention drawn away by the delighted giggles from our son as he watches his cartoons. "Jell-o salad is in its mold in the fridge. We're not going to need that for a while yet anyway. It'll take us about twenty minutes to finish putting together your seven layer salad, so we don't have to do that right now. And Kerry hasn't asked for our oven yet, so she must have everything covered for the time being. I'd say that we have a little over half an hour to watch cartoons with William. That work for you?"

Smiling broadly, Monica grabs her glass in one hand, and my hand in the other, and leads me into the living room. William only grumbles a little bit as we resettle ourselves on the couch, but he loves sitting between us.

+++++

By the time we make our way into the Great Room, there's a decent crowd gathering already. It takes me a minute to even get through the doorway, because Monica stops in her tracks and just takes several slow, deep breaths. The cornucopia of scents assailing our noses is almost orgasmic, and I know the food's still not completely ready yet. William tugs at my hand, pointing toward the big screen TV where the older Farazell-Fraiser kids have already congregated in preparation for the movie marathon. I wonder what Zo has decided they'll watch this year. Last year, it was a handful of old Don Bluth animated movies. The year before was Disney movies. I couldn't even guess what mood Zo's in for this year.

"Go on, handsome," I say with a smile. "Go over by the kids and get ready for the movies. I see Cubby and Justin are over there, and I bet Jimmy and Michel will be here any minute now. Your _mami_ and I will be within shouting distance, okay?"

"'Kay!" he says and runs off toward the older kids.

Luckily, Emily has noticed that we've arrived and gets up to greet William. She leans over to say something to him, and he dutifully turns around to wave happily at us. Only once we wave back does Emily guide him over to get him a spot in front of the TV. We watch him interacting with the older kids for a moment before Zo breezes over to snatch the trays of seven layer salad out of our hands.

"You can ogle all you want," she says with a saucy grin, "but there are hungry people here, and I'd like to keep my body parts intact!" Before we can do more than chuckle, she dances off toward the kitchen, sidestepping people wanting the dip like a professional receiver. Davie's amused outrage at getting hip checked in the process only makes the situation funnier.

We wander over to the table where the adult members of the Farazell-Fraiser clan are all sitting. Davie is pouting and rubbing at her hip. "And don't you dare tell me to go crying to Sylvia, Karen Taylor. You know as well as I do that she'll just laugh and say I deserved it."

"And she'd be right," Karen retorts, eyes twinkling merrily. "You know the rules about the Thanksgiving feast here at the Ranch."

"Humph! I'm going to spend time with my nieces and nephews."

And with that, Davie wanders over by the TV. The happy cries of her name by the children get a round of fond chuckles from around the table. Art studies us for a moment before pointing a finger at Monica.

"You bring the seven layer salad?"

"Did you not see your sister hip check Davie to get it in the kitchen just a couple of minutes ago?" is the reply, complete with an arched eyebrow.

"You do have a point."

"And you did make the tabbouleh, right?" Monica asks, calculation in her tone. "It's just not Thanksgiving without it now."

Darya laughs and pats Monica's hand. "Do you really think I'd let her get away without making the tabbouleh? Though Kerry did draw the line at trying to add lamb into the meal again this year. She's made it quite clear that lamb is for Easter, not Thanksgiving."

"I think it's finally time to give up the ghost on that one," Art mutters with a half-hearted pout. "But Davie made some new cookies for dessert this time."

"Cookies?" I ask, just loud enough for Davie to hear me, and dig into my pocket for one of the coins I'd stuffed there earlier. "Who in the hell makes cookies for Thanksgiving dessert? It's supposed to be pie!"

"Quarter, Aunt Dana!" Fawn calls out happily, which is repeated by the rest of the kids amidst a series of giggles. She separates from the pack and trots over to our table when I wave her over, hand outstretched. I flip the quarter toward her, and she catches it easily after a couple of rotations before stuffing it into her pocket. "Thank you!" And with that, she makes her way back to the TV area.

"So how much of her college fund is saved up from the swear jar now?" I ask drily, shaking my head.

Sam and Darya chuckle as Janet shakes her head in defeat. "That child has better money management skills than Scrooge himself," she complains fondly. "I'm quite sure she'll be a millionaire before she's turned eighteen, if I give her half a chance."

"And you're holding her back why exactly?" Art teases, then pouts when Janet slaps her shoulder none too gently. "I fully support the idea of my kids supporting me as soon as they possibly can."

+++++

By the time we shuffle back into our apartment, I want nothing more than to spend the next several weeks in a food-induced coma. And I know Monica and William probably feel the same way. Thankfully, we don't need to worry about leftovers for a while, though the group as a whole did decimate a good portion of the food today. The seven layer salad was as big a hit as it's always been. I think the kids nearly killed off one of the trays themselves!

Monica wearily carries William into his bedroom. He doesn't even so much as twitch as she undresses him and tucks him into bed with Thomas. She stands there for a moment, just stroking his hair, and I have to wonder if she's not contemplating crawling into the bed with him. I certainly wouldn't mind doing it, that's for sure. Finally, she turns around to join me, dropping his dirty clothes in the hamper.

"You know, you could have left him in those clothes," I say gently as she leans over to press a light kiss to my lips. "We need to do laundry tomorrow anyway, and he's definitely going to need a bath."

She shrugs and turns around to watch William sleep for another moment. "It was habit, I suppose. Nap time now, yes?"

With a knowing chuckle, I take her hand and lead her into our bedroom. The monitor goes on the nightstand, as always, and I push her onto the bed. Monica sprawls back without hesitation, giggling softly when I start to remove her boots and socks. Slowly, I get her just as undressed as she just got William, then strip myself out of the clothes that feel just a bit too tight in the aftermath of that huge meal we devoured. By the time I'm crawling under the covers with her, her eyes are drooping and dangerously close to completely shut.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Monica," I murmur and press my lips against her cheek. "Nap now, and we'll contemplate pie once we get up."

"Mmm," Monica slurs happily, drunkenly. "I like pie." This sends her off into a fit of giggles that is evilly contagious. When we finally calm down, which takes longer than I would expect for how tired and full we are, she shifts onto her side and strokes my cheek gently. "You know, what I said during the thankfulness speeches was true. I am so very thankful to have you and William in my life. As sick and twisted as it sounds, I'm really thankful that Snake Eyes brought you into my life. I haven't been the same since, and I don't mind that at all."

"Flatterer," I tease lightly, feeling the flush of embarrassment tingeing my cheeks. "I know you meant it, and I feel the very same way. You and William mean everything to me, and I would be lost without you in my life."

" _Te quiero, mi corazon_ ," she whispers against my lips. "Now and always."

"Now and always," I repeat, and mean every syllable of it.


	23. Monica's Forty-Second Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Birthday - celebrant is sick".

++ Monica ++

(11-30-06)

_Excerpt from the personal journal of Monica Reyes_

> _I thought I was going to be lucky enough to miss out on the bug that the Farazell-Fraiser kids brought home from the daycare center earlier this week. I've never gotten sick in my life. Not that I remember at least. My mother was the same way. Papi got sick sometimes, but for the most part, we were a healthy family. And yes, I know that sounds pretty egotistical, but it's the truth._
> 
> _So color me cranky as hell when I ended up going to bed not long after dinner last night. William went to bed later than I did. I'm not sure what it was, but I went from feeling just fine to feeling like a five foot spike was being pounded into my skull. It was the damnedest thing, too. Came right out of the blue. One minute I'm refilling my water glass, and the next I'm gripping the counter so hard to stay up that my knuckles went white. I honestly don't remember if I threw up in the kitchen or in the bathroom the first time, but Alexis somehow was holding me up when it happened. I do know that my vision went all funky and I saw those aura spots when I was in the kitchen._
> 
> _I couldn't move for a while there, as the spots danced before my eyes in sickening waves, like watching those stupid strobe light effects used on website backgrounds that some people think are really cool. I'm not sure if it was that or the pain that made my stomach bottom out. I don't think it really matters in the long run, as the vomiting was pretty much a foregone conclusion. I could hear the fearful curiosity in William's voice as he stroked my leg. I remember his little hand touching my leg because it was probably the only thing that grounded me in the present. Dana's worried doctor voice was almost a background hum to me, and I know she was using it to help keep William from completely freaking out._
> 
> _The next thing I remembered was Alexis standing behind me, arms around my waist to steady me until Dana could loosen my death grip on the counter. Alexis practically carried me into the bedroom and set me on the bed. I remember this because she was keening softly, a cross between maternal comforting and fearful whining. The confusion as to how she came to be in our apartment might have flitted across my mind, but it wasn't a conscious thought in the face of the pain._
> 
> _Dana tells me that Alexis just showed up at our door with Tory, who had then gone to get Kerry. Kerry is my hero now as she apparently gave me some sort of heavy duty shot because I lost about sixteen hours to the blissful oblivion of sleep. Dana has also told me that I somehow agreed to go into the clinic to do a full battery of tests to see what might have happened to cause that migraine from hell._
> 
> _I'm not even going to start on how utterly shitty I feel right now, though I will say that this is still better than those first terrifying minutes when this hit last night. What makes it worse is that I'm having to spend my birthday in bed, and not in the way that I'd prefer. This sucks big time._

A knock at the door pulls my attention from my journal with a sharp hiss as I lift my head too quickly. "Damn it!"

"Still not feeling all that great?" Dana asks softly as she slips into the room.

I shake my head gingerly, fearing a reprisal of the stabbing pains. "This sucks," I finally mutter, closing my journal.

Dana grabs my notebook and pen, setting them on the nightstand, and moves to sit next to me on the bed. She strokes my cheek and sighs softly. "I wish there was an easier way to get rid of this for you."

"More sleep will probably do it," I reply and shrug. "Maybe Kerry can give me another shot of whatever that knockout drug was that she gave me last night? That certainly helped."

This makes Dana chuckle. "Do you really want to lose the better part of another day to sleep?"

"If it means getting rid of this crap, you're damned right I do."

"Okay, okay," she says. "Don't go getting upset and making it worse. I'll go call Kerry and see if she can come back over."

She kisses my forehead and slips out of the bedroom to make her phone call. I honestly want to go back to sleep, but I should probably wait until Kerry gets here and gives me more of that blessedly magical drug. I don't even know what it is, but I don't care either; not when it makes me feel so much better. The tentative knock at the door has me wondering how quickly Kerry has actually gotten over here.

"Come on in," I call out softly.

The door opens carefully, but I don't see Kerry standing there. Or Dana, for that matter.

" _Mami_? I join you?"

"Hey, _mi hijo_. Of course, you can join me."

He comes into the bedroom, Thomas dragging behind him, and climbs up onto the bed next to me. He snuggles under the covers and scoots right next to me, setting Thomas in my lap. "You sick, _Mami_?"

"Unfortunately, yes. _Mami_ 's head hurt really bad last night."

"Still hurt?"

"A little bit. Auntie Kerry's hopefully going to give me some medicine to make it feel all better though. But I might have to take another really long nap when she does."

"S'okay. I nap, too."

That brings a smile to my face. "I would love it if you took a nap with me, Billy Bear. I like snuggling with you. You make me feel better, you know that?"

He smiles broadly and snuggles in closer. " _S'pos, Mami_."

" _Te quiero, mi hijo_."

The next knock at the door makes me look up in anticipation. Dana opens the door and grins at the sight of the two of us curled up together on the bed. "Okay, Kerry, you might as well just give her the shot. She and William have commandeered my bed, and I'd like to get a good night's sleep myself."

Kerry's amused laugh precedes her into the room, and she appraises me thoughtfully as she makes her way to the bed. William and I sit quietly as she checks me over. I answer all of her questions, and the answers must be what she wants to hear as she pulls out the syringe and vial of medicine.

"This is the last one, Monica," she warns. "And you're going into the clinic tomorrow for that full work up, right?"

"I'll take her in myself," Dana supplies happily. "Don't worry about that at all."

Kerry starts to prep me for the shot, but I find myself shaking my head. "You know what, Kerry? Let me see if I really need that before you give it to me."

"Are you sure?"

I glance at Dana, then at William, and smile as I meet Kerry's gaze again. "I’m sure. I'd rather not remember this birthday as having slept through all of it because of this damned migraine. If it gets bad, I'll have Dana call you."

As Kerry leaves the room, I hold my hand out to bring Dana into bed with the two of us, knowing I'll soon doze of pleasantly with my loves by my side. At least I'll have this snuggle fest to remember my birthday.


	24. Saint Nicholas Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt "Gift giving".

++ Dana ++

(12-06-06)

"He's still too young to really get what we're doing, Monica," I say, but don't stop her from finishing her stuffing of the stockings hanging on the mantelpiece. In fact, I've been holding the box with all of the little bits and bobs to fill said stockings. I even wrapped several of them over the last week while William has been sleeping.

"He'll remember a lot more than he did the last two years, Dana," she replies, reaching into the box for a small package I don't recognize. "Besides, I'll remember and I want to be able to tell him all about it when he's older."

"What's in that box?" I ask as she slips the unknown package into my stocking. "Monica Reyes, what kind of game are you playing?"

"You'll have to wait until you open it to find out."

"Pain in my ass," I mutter, swatting at her rear when she grins cheekily at me. "And you better hurry up if you're going to make sure this is done before William wakes up."

She begins to stuff things into the stockings more quickly, and finishes just as we hear that telltale whine that means a certain boy is waking up. Tossing the box into our bedroom, Monica grins broadly back at me and rubs her hands gleefully. "Do you have the camera ready?"

"Of course, I do," I reply and continue before she can ask another inane question. "And it has new batteries and the card is clean, empty, and ready to be filled. Happy?"

She nods enthusiastically and practically bounces to William's door to crack it open almost before I can get over there with her. "Hey there, _mi hijo_. _Buenos dias_."

" _Dias, Mami_ ," he mumbles sleepily, scrubbing at his eyes.

"You forget to say hello to Mama?" she asks him, shifting so he can see me behind her.

"Sorry, Mama. G'morning!"

Pushing past Monica, I go to sit next to William on his bed and scoop him up into a tight hug. "Good morning to you, handsome. Did you sleep well?" He nods and presses his lips to my cheek with a sloppy, noisy zerbert kiss. This, of course, sends Monica into peals of excitable laughter, which only goads William on to do it again. I honestly wonder which one of them is older some days.

"Hey, William, someone came to visit last night," Monica says.

"Sanna?" His eyes light up at her words and he starts squirming in my grip. "Wanna see Sanna!"

"Santa's not--" But he breaks free of my hold and scrambles toward Monica and the door. "Oh, to hell with it!" I mutter, getting up to follow them, curious at my Grinch-y attitude.

"Mama! Sanna was here!" William screeches, and I have to wonder what he'll be like on Christmas morning when his presents are under the tree.

"I see that, handsome," I reply as Monica snaps a couple of pictures of William and the filled stockings. "Should we open them now? Or save them for Christmas?"

The look he shoots me as he turns around nearly dissolves my resolve; it's a combination of horror, dismay, and outright death threats. Silent death threats, but death threats nonetheless. Oh dear, he really does have his _mami_ 's temper, doesn't he? Or is that my temper? That's definitely a toss-up.

"Mama!" he finally says, stomping his little foot, hands on his hips. Oh yeah, I guess that is my temper, isn't it? "Open now." Monica clears her throat and he has the grace to look ashamed. "Sorry, Mama. Please open now?"

Glancing back at Monica, I shrug my shoulders and turn enough that he can't see me grinning. "I don't know, Mon. Do you think he's been a good enough boy to open what's in his stocking?"

"Santa wouldn't have filled his stocking if he was a naughty boy," she counters thoughtfully. "I think it's okay to open it."

"Yay!" William cries, clapping his hands.

Monica moves to the mantelpiece and pulls down a stocking. "Okay, Billy Bear, this is for _Mami_. Can you set it in my spot on the couch?"

When he does as she asks, she grins and hands him my stocking with a similar request. I take the stocking and his sloppy kiss to my cheek happily. Finally, she pulls down his stocking and points to the couch. He runs over and climbs up to sit next to me, arms stretched out for his stocking. He's practically vibrating against my side in his eagerness.

It takes a moment to realize that I'm picking up on the nervous energy swirling around the room from my beloved family. Christmastime is Monica's favorite time of the year, and that's clearly rubbed off on our son.

"Oh, Mon, give him the stocking before he explodes and leaves little William bits all over this apartment," I finally say with amused exasperation. "And if he does explode before you do, you will be the one cleaning up the mess, not me."

Monica chuckles and hands William his stocking. Expecting to end up in the middle of a wrapping paper snow globe, I'm actually shocked to watch him sit there and stare at the full stocking. His little hand strokes the warm fake fur of the stocking, following the contours over and over. Monica snaps a few pictures and starts up the video camera on the tripod before joining us on the couch.

"So much, Mama," he whispers, tearing his gaze away from the haul in his lap to stare at me in awe. "I good boy?"

"Santa certainly thinks so, handsome," I reply, stroking his cheek. "Do you want to see what's in there?"

When he nods, I pull the coffee table closer and overturn his stocking onto its shiny surface. Out tumbles half a dozen gaily wrapped boxes, a candy cane, a dozen chocolates, a couple of _Thomas the Tank Engine_ coloring books that we didn't feel needed wrapping paper, and a _Thomas_ toothbrush. William spends several moments flipping through the coloring books, crowing at the various pictures and detailing how he'll color some of them.

"Hey, Billy Bear," Monica finally says when his excited stuttering gets worse, "how about we do the coloring later and open some of your other stuff first?"

"Okay, _Mami_!"

It feels like no time passes at all as William opens the packages to find crayons, a new big boy water bottle, two new _Thomas_ engines for his collection, a package of _Thomas_ underpants to celebrate his potty training, and _Thomas_ slippers. The slippers, of course, immediately go on his feet, and he parades around the room, proud as a peacock.

"So did Santa do a good job for my good boy?"

"Oh yes, Mama!" he says happily, then tilts his head back to yell, "Fank you, Sanna!"

+++++

Eventually, we get William happily settled on the floor, coloring in his new coloring books, and within easy reach is his water bottle is filled with apple juice. The trash from his presents has already been set aside for the Winter Solstice bonfire, and the rest of his presents are tucked back into the stocking hung back up on the mantelpiece again.

"We should probably get breakfast going," I say, watching William with a fond smile. "He's going to get hungry and I don't want his first meal to be candy."

Monica chuckles and strokes my arm. "Breakfast can wait a little longer. We have stockings to open, too."

Rolling my eyes, I motion for her to open her stocking first. Scooting closer to the table, she upends her stocking just as we'd done with William's. She pushes aside the candy cane and most of the chocolates, unwrapping one of the Hershey's kisses to pop it in her mouth. "Mmm, that's so good," she moans softly, glancing at me from under her lashes. "Too bad we can't share it…"

"You're incorrigible," I reply, unconsciously licking my lips at the thought of sharing that kiss with her. "Open your damned gifts."

Grinning mischievously, she makes quick work of her presents: toothbrush, elastic bands for her hair, a pony bead necklace that William made, a gift certificate for a dozen cupcakes from her favorite bakery in town, and the paperback version of _People of the Moon_ , the latest in the series of books by W. Michael Gear and Kathleen O'Neal Gear that she's fallen in love with. That book was a bitch to keep a secret from her. Little does she know that she's getting the hardcover edition for Christmas.

"Thank you, baby," she says, leaning over to press a kiss of thanks to my lips. "I can't wait to start reading this when I finish the anthology I've been working my way through."

"You're welcome, Mon. I hope it's as good as the rest of the series has been."

She grins and starts stuffing her stocking with the rest of her things, then hangs it back up next to William's. As she returns to the couch, her smile broadens and she gestures to the stocking still resting in my lap. "What's keeping you from opening your stocking?"

"I was just waiting for you two to finish," I finally say as I repeat the overturning of the stocking onto the table. I know about the candy cane, chocolates, toothbrush, and new spatula, as I bought them when I got the other stocking stuffers; these items get pushed back into the stocking immediately. The new romance novel is a surprise, especially because I'd been with Monica when she bought it, and believed that it was a gag gift for Janet. And I can admit to getting a little misty eyed when I open the necklace from William that matches Monica's, immediately putting it on. The box of candied rose petals is a lovely treat that I don't intend to share with anyone but Monica.

"Thank you, _amante_ ," I murmur, leaning in to press another kiss to her lips.

"Nope, not me," she replies. "Thank Santa. He's pretty damned awesome."

We turn to watch William coloring some more, and I can't help but wonder what he's going to be like when he gets his Christmas presents, including his new big boy bed.

I love Christmas.


	25. Danced in Their Heads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) prompt Winter holiday/festival".

++ Monica ++

(12-25-06)

"Why is it that Christmas gets harder and more exhausting as you get older?" Dana grumbles as she shuffles into the bedroom.

Her question makes me chuckle, and I bite back the retort about her being older than me; I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight instead of the couch in the Great Room. Shifting up a bit, I set my book aside and pat the mattress next to me. "You're only exhausted because William is finally starting to get the holidays and wants to keep up with the older kids."

She snorts softly and walks into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Moving again, I rest my chin on my hands and watch her go through her nightly ablutions. Teeth brushed, she works on removing her makeup before running a brush through her hair. Dana smiles at me as she comes back into the bedroom and works on stripping off her clothes. I am completely mesmerized by what I consider to be the flawless beauty of her naked body. Her amused chuckle warms me in less than innocent ways as I groan when she slips into her pajama bottoms and tank top.

"Your arousal's showing," she teases, removing her jewelry and setting it on the dresser.

"So? You're drop dead gorgeous, babe."

She snorts again and crawls into bed. Obviously, I need to prove that I mean what I say, regardless of the fact that I say it to her all the time. Without hesitation, I lean over to press a kiss to her lips, utterly delighted when she parts her lips to accept my questing tongue. Exhausted, my ass. Dana moans softly, one hand moving up to cup the back of my head, keeping me close. She tastes of wintergreen, fennel, and cloves. This is a very strange combination that should not work in nature, but is surprisingly tasty in Dana.

"Mama!"

The sound of William's voice over the monitor effectively halts any amorous thoughts I'm having. Sighing at the loss of Dana's lips against mine, I move to get out of bed to check on our son. This is his first night in his new big boy bed, and I really shouldn't be surprised that he's having some adjustment issues.

"I'll go, Mon," Dana says, gently touching my arm. "He's calling for me, after all."

"We'll both go," I reply, grabbing her hand to guide her out of the bedroom. We walk to William's room in silence, listening for any signs of him being more upset than he came across on the monitor. Thankfully, he's pretty quiet. Slipping the door open, we can see him sitting up in his bed, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand. "Hey, _mi hijo_ ," I say softly. " _Que pasa?_ "

"No sleep, _Mami_ ," he grumbles.

Dana moves into the room, settling on the bed next to him. "What's wrong, handsome? Did you have a bad dream?" He shakes his head and snuggles in next to her side. "Are you feeling sick?" He shakes his head again. "Then what's wrong, William?"

"Bed wrong," is all he'll say as I head to the rocking chair to be near them.

"It is?" She shifts him into her lap and presses a kiss to the top of his head. "What's wrong about it?"

"No bars," he finally whispers.

Dana glances up at me, and that old worry about this bed has crept back into her eyes. She has been fighting herself over whether William's old enough for a big boy bed, or if we should have just done the modification to convert his crib into a toddler bed. She's agonized over this decision for the last six months since William turned two. Everyone here at the Ranch has given us advice on this situation, and I finally thought she'd resolved her issues when she finally put the money down on the twin bed she's now sitting on with our son.

Apparently, I was wrong.

" _Mi hijo_ , don't you want to be a big boy like Jimmy and Cubby? They don't sleep in cribs."

"Am a big boy," he says stubbornly, "but afraid to fall."

Nodding slowly, I study William for a moment before standing up. "Be right back."

Heading out into the living room, I rummage through the linen closet until I find the air mattress and its pump. A fitted sheet is tossed on top of the bin they're stored in and I make my way back into the bedroom. Dana has moved to the rocking chair, holding William close and crooning softly to him. His eyelids are heavily drooping with exhaustion, but he and his mother watch me avidly as I set up the air mattress on the floor and plug in the pump to inflate it. Once the mattress is fully inflated, I put the sheet on it before moving to stand in front of my two dearest loves. Leaning over, I pull William up into my arms and sit on his bed.

"Sleepover, _Mami_?" William asks sleepily.

"Not quite, Billy Bear. But I have made you a safety net for your big boy bed."

"Net?"

"Mm-hmm. You can sleep in your big boy bed, and we'll put the air mattress right up next to it. That way, if you roll over and fall by accident, you'll land on the mattress and not get hurt. Will that make your bed less scary?"

William nods as enthusiastically as he can, considering how worn out he is, and lets me settle him in his bed again. He reaches for Thomas and curls up on his side, facing the door. I lean over and press a quick kiss to his sleep-warmed cheek.

"Music, _Mami_?" he asks, slurring the words around a yawn.

Dana turns on the CD of ocean sounds that William loves to fall asleep to, then comes over to kiss him goodnight again. He sighs happily and snuggles Thomas closer. We step back from the bed to push the air mattress up tight against his bed.

"There we go, Billy Bear. Now if you get restless in your sleep and roll out of bed, you have this whole air mattress to land on. Isn't that better than bars?"

"Fank you, _Mami_ ," he murmurs.

We watch William sleep for a moment or two before I motion for Dana to precede me out of the bedroom. Dana pauses in the doorway to glance back at William, but continues on toward our bedroom. Once in our room, she grabs the monitor and puts it on her nightstand. I don't fight this protective streak of hers, knowing it will only make her fretting worse. She crawls into bed and turns to curl up against my side.

"I'm being one of those mothers again, aren't I?"

"No, you're being a good mother," I reply with a grin and press a kiss to her temple. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried about him getting hurt in his new bed, but I know he'll be fine. And if we really need to, we can rig up the side bars from his crib onto his new bed, but I don't think we'll need to. The air mattress is going to be his bed version of training wheels."

Dana leans up on one elbow to study my face. "You think so?"

"I know so. And we'll give him a month or so to get used to his new bed, then we'll work on fully potty training him. If he's got a real bed, he won't need his pull-ups at night anymore either."

With a tremulous grin, Dana leans over to press a grateful kiss to my lips. "How do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better?"

"It's what I do," I reply with a nonchalant shrug.

Dana strokes my cheek and cuddles down next to me again with a sigh. Her fingers trail down my sternum to rest against my stomach. "I'm sorry that we got interrupted earlier. I was kind of hoping to have our own little Christmas celebration now that the main festivities are over with."

"It's okay. William needed to be taken care of. Besides, it's not like we'll never get the chance to make love again, baby." I grin and waggle my eyebrows at her. "I was planning on taking advantage of you on New Year's Eve, anyway."

She lets out a coquettish giggle, the sound sending a warm jolt down into my groin. "I'm going to keep you to that promise, you know."

"Good. I have all sorts of naughty, dirty things planned for you."

Dana grins and leans up to brand me with a tired, but heady kiss. "You spoil me, Monica Reyes."

"Not in the slightest!" I reply, turning more serious as I caress her cheek. "I do love you, though, Dana, with every fiber of my being."

"I love you, too, Mon. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, baby."

Sleep comes quickly after our declarations of love, and the Ghost of Christmas Present seems appeased for another year.


End file.
